A Song For Two
by MissSkulduggeryPleasant
Summary: REUPLOAD! Hetalia Songfics! Romance, friendships, break ups, getting back together. ALL pairings allowed! Contains yaoi pairings mostly but hetero-pairings/genderbendering are welcome! Rating has gone up since chapter6! I don't own Hetalia nor the songs used."
1. Speechless

Lady Gaga: Speechless: USUK

England stared at the nation in front of him. The rain was getting heavier on the battlefield. The air was cold and calm. Too calm. It smelt of death and betrayal. America stared back at him with cold eyes. England growled and held up the rifle in his hands.

Towards the American.

America faltered, staring at the rifle in front of him. Was he going to shoot? After looking after him for so long, this is how he was going to end it? By killing him in cold blood. America looked at the older nation.

"Why?" he asked. "Why end it? You used to be so great."

England didn't say anything. He stood there glaring at his so called brother. The rifle didn't waver.

"Why so speechless, England? I don't need you anymore. I'm old enough now. This is a new start for me."

England's grip on the rifle tightened but said nothing. He didn't need to, the sorrow, anger and betrayal was there in his eyes. America stepped closer to England.

"Don't move, you wanker." The Brit finally growled.

The rifle was wavering slightly. The mighty nation was weakening. He was losing the strong grip he had on the only person he most cared about. He didn't want him to go, he loved America. Loved him dearly. But he was ending it. Did the stupid American not realise this? Did he not know what he was losing? For nine years of fighting, of slaughter, America had quickly lost England's love. But it was still there eating away the crumbling nation standing before him.

"What happened to you?" America asked.

"What happened to me?" England snapped. "What happened to you? You started this whole mess. You didn't want me anymore. You wanted out, America. I didn't. I took you in and saved you...and this is how you repay me! By starting a war?!"

America glared at him. "I can't depend on you my whole life, England. I'm old enough now to live my own and be the country I am."

England's rifle shook violently and soon slipped from his grasp. The nation fell to his knees as tears began to fall from his face. America stared at him, slightly dumbfounded.

"England..."

"Don't." England sobbed. "Don't say a word. We're finished here. You and I are no longer brothers."

America knelt down beside England. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't even cut it." he looked away, still staring at the muddy ground. "I...love you."

"You what?"

"I...I loved you. Not brotherly family love. But proper loved you. I never stopped. But now I don't."

"I...I never knew."

"Of course you didn't." England snarled. "I tried to end these damned feelings for you but they wouldn't stop burning. This damned yearning ache for you to be in my arms; to have me...inside you...to have your lips on mine. Now..." England scoffed. "I feel nothing but hate for you. You ruined that chance."

England thrust the rifle into America's hands.

"Go on." He snarled. "End this. Shoot me, now. Go on. Shot me right in the heart. Break it even more!"

America looked at the rifle then at England. He threw the rifle away and leaned forward, closing the gap between them and kissed the sobbing solider. He drew back slightly and looked into England's watery eyes. "Why would I kill you? You cared for me and I love you. I have no reason to shoot you. Not ever. I'm not the killing man you think I am. I know also that you wouldn't shoot me."

England sniffed and leaned in close to America, yearning to taste him again. It started soft and became deep and passionate. Soon it turned rough and wild. America's hands twirled themselves into England's hair. England turned his head to the side and America jerked back, clutching his lip.

"You bastard!"

England smirked. America drew his hand away from his bloody lip, looking at the blood on his fingers. England gently took hold of America's wrist and began to lick the small amount of blood on his delicate fingers. Then he leaned in and kissed him again. His tongue trailed here and there against the small wound he created, making the younger nation squirm against him.

"Oh, America." He breathed. "I ache for you."

America leaned in closer and then...

_SMACK! _

England recoiled, his hand immediately going to his cheek. He stared at America who was scowling at him.

"I hate you." The young man growled. He stood up, turned on his heel and left the battlefield. England watched his love go. Fresh new tears ran down his cheeks. War was a terrible thing, especially when it involved love ones and families to be torn apart.

England stood up and hurried over to the American.

"America, wait!"

America stopped and was soon on the ground. England on top of him, his arms wrapped around him and sobbing into the younger man's uniform.

"England...please..." America breathed.

"I can't let you go." England sobbed.

"I know you can't." America sat up pushing England with him. He brushed England's hair from his face. "Listen, I can't do this. I can't. I want to be free."

"But...you can be. I know...know that you're old enough to do what you will. But we can be together as lovers."

"No, England. It's not what I want. I love you, England. Really, I do, but maybe we can wait. Give it time."

England felt his body go limp. "Yes. I thought you might." He mumbled.

England stood to his feet and turned his back on his enemy. "I love you, America. I always will. If you need me as I need you..." he turned to the nation. "You know where I am."

America nodded and England turned and left the battlefield. He took out something from his coat and waved a white cloth in the air. He was surrendering. He was defeated by his love. He was surrendering his love to America. He threw it to the ground and ran. For maybe the first time in years, England felt speechless and felt his heartbreak into pieces.

America stood to his feet and walked over to where England dropped the white cloth. He picked it up and stared at it. Even though he didn't show it, America was surrendering his love to England. But he couldn't, not yet. He knew the war was now over and he had won. He had gained his freedom and he could celebrate now. He couldn't wait to tell Canada. He would invite him over and they would celebrate his independence. He would ask France to celebrate with him as he had fought alongside with America. He knew that the Frenchman wouldn't miss it as he knew that he and Canada got along so well, as they had been in the same lines as America and England but France and Canada hadn't gone through a war as England had taken Canada from France. They would be reunited again and they would celebrate all night long. Prussia and Spain would be there too. After all Prussia's boss had sent him that Steuben guy to train him.

He wished England could join but it was more like a cat in hell's chance.

America walked back to his army and smiled. Cheers rang out! Soldiers hurried over to young nation, clapping him on the back. America smiled and shook hands with his friends. The celebrations carried on throughout the night. Prussia, Spain, Canada and France came over with a bottle of wine each and celebrated with the Americans. But throughout the whole night, America's mind wandered to England.

His only love...

* * *

**A/N: **

_**Bonjour! Hola! Guten Tag! **_**This is a new fanfiction or songfic that I came up with when watching Hetalia AMV's. It was of this song and the USUK pairing. Then I watched xAnimeAmy?x's Gaga madness video and speechless played along with the American Revolutionary War episode. It was so moving and it sparked the whole idea. The next two chapters are ones that I am working on at the moment. **

**For those of you who have read my previous Hetalia fanfiction with the Bad Touch Trio along this one, just to mention, it could be a couple or so days before I update. Also, I'll be posting two more stories on here that I am working on as well. **

**I'm just that creative – I'm a busy bee! **

**Also in this fanfiction, I will only be doing country pairings not country and historical person pairings like: EnglandxShakespeare or ItalyxMussolini. It's just CountryxCountry! If you have any requests for a pairing you love, don't hesitate to ask. Just send it in a review and I'll update after the next two. Until then...happy reading!**

_**Au Revoir! **_

**M.S.P**

**xxxxx**


	2. Lay All Your Love on Me

ABBA: Lay All Your Love On Me: GerIta

Germany stirred in his sleep as he felt someone shift next to him. He looked over at the sleeping Italian lying on his side, both of his arms wrapped around Germany's muscular one. He smiled and kissed Italy's forehead. Italy mumbled something and snuggled into him. Germany turned onto his side and pulled him closer.

He could remember the first day that he had met Italy. It had been during World War One and the German had found him 'stuck' inside of a tomato box. Soon, they had become allies after Germany had unleashed a forceful attack upon France.

Now, they were dating and it had all started when Japan had invited all of the Axis and Allies over for lunch. Italy had burned his arm when he knocked into America and Germany had 'helped' him.

The blonde loved the boy and was completely devoted to him. He knew the Italian felt the same way and it didn't help that his brother, Prussia, kept hitting on the timid Italian. It often made his blood boil but the two allies knew that they only had eyes for each other.

Germany reached up and stroked Italy's hair curl. Italy's face began to crinkle as thought he was suddenly becoming uncomfortable. A small moan popped out of his mouth and he began to wriggle. One of his hands clutched tightly on Germany's arm.

"G-G-Germany, god." He moaned.

The blonde stopped stroking and leaned in close to the small Italian. He placed a small kiss onto his forehead. The Italian stopped squirming and eased himself close to Germany. The German smiled and held his lover close.

He never wanted to let of this feeling, this moment or any moment. He wanted to stay by the boy's side for always. No matter what came their way, he could be there for the Italian/ he had done the same for Germany during the first and Second World War and Germany was going to do the same for him.

As Germany lay there next to his lover, he began to feel sleep wash over him. He snuggled down into the bed sheets and closed his eyes. Dreaming of his lover.

* * *

It was the crack of dawn when Italy woke from his sleep. He looked around at his surroundings and smiled as he saw the sleeping German next to him. He nuzzled into his chest, inhaling the scent of his German lover. He loved Germany as much as he loved his own homemade pasta. He didn't think he could love anybody as much as he loved Germany. It was as though they were destined to be together. Fate had brought them together during World War One when he had met Germany and pretended to the Box of Tomatoes Fairy. He had been a coward back then but now, he was confident. He had been confident enough to explain to German is feelings towards him. He had changed so much since Germany had come into his life.

It all started on the night when Japan had invited the Axis and the Allies over after a long meeting in Tokyo and made dinner. But during the eating, things went chaotic! America and England had once again started fighting. France was just egging the argument on as usual. China was mumbling insults in his native tongue; Russia had been sending out his usual 'kolkolkol' calls out again and smiling weirdly. Italy had been carrying in the stew that Japan had made with such precaution but soon the stew had been knocked all over him when the two fighting nations had knocked into it. Italy had been badly burned and Germany had jumped up and taken him into the kitchen whilst Japan scolded America and England and cleaned up the mess. Germany soon bandaged up the injured Italian and the two had started talking. Germany had gotten to near and Italy had leant in and kissed the blonde.

Soon from then on, the whole Italian and German love had begun and the gossip had spread. Germany had had to bring up security with Hungary running around with a video camera trying to capture any 'yaoi moments' between them. Germany liked his privacy especially when Italy was involved. Italy didn't know what he would do without Germany otherwise he wouldn't be strong and he would have been still stuck in that tomato box for years. But surely someone would come and found him if not Germany.

He was sure would have. What about Big Brother France? Surely he loved him enough to take him in and make him part of the allies. Oh, wait, he had done that...He had gone behind Germany's back. He had made a treaty with the Allies in 1915 and declared war on his two former carers and soon he did the same to Germany.

He had still loved Germany. That's another reason why he had sided with Germany to stop him for getting hurt. But Germany hadn't given in. He had destroyed cities, lives and loves until he had had enough. Italy was glad and soon the war ended with the Treaty of Versailles.

Italy wiped a tear from his eye as the memories of when the treaty had been signed. Germany had only glanced at Italy once it had been with anger, betrayal and disgust. Italy's eyes had filled with tears and as soon as signing the treaty finished Germany had walked out without a single word to him. France had tried to comfort him but it didn't work. Italy hated himself for it. But he had to leave that all in the past and forget about it. Because now he was dating his ally, they were not going to let anything stop it. Not even his brother.

Germany shifted his sleep, rolling over onto his back and turned his head towards Italy. The Italian smiled at him and brushed away his blonde hair from his face. His thumb began to stroke the German's cheek. His skin, which had gone through so many wars and turmoil's, was smooth and silky. He could remember so many, many, many years ago of his former love, Holy Roman Empire having skin as smooth as Germany's was.

Holy Roman Empire had been there for him when Italy needed it most. Hungary, too, but when she wasn't around, he was and he had gave him his food, his kindness and shared his love to him before he had to go to war. Soon he had vanished. Italy was left all alone. Hungary had comforted him and Austria...well he had never been much help.

"Italy."

Italy looked up and saw his lover wide awake.

"You okay?"

"_Si_." Said Italy, stroking his cheek. "Everything's fine."

Germany smiled and leaned up to the nation to kiss him. Italy smiled against his lips and deepened the kiss. Germany wrapped his arms around his waist pulling him closer and rolled them until Italy was beneath him. The red head wrapped his arms around Germany's neck and tangled his fingers, interlocking them with the German nation's blonde locks. Germany pulled away to trail kisses along the smaller nation's neck, making him squirm and gasp.

"G-Germany!"

"_Ja_, Italy." The nation whispered, through kisses.

"Lay...all your love...on me." He said, making the blonde chuckled against his skin.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Sorry that I haven't updated in a while. But it's been slightly chaotic. Anyway, here is the second chapter of A Song For Two. The next chapter will contain Franada my OTP ;). There are a few more songfics I have in mind and are currently writing on. I also have other Hetalia fanfictions to work on, if you haven't read them and are intrigued; please feel free to read, review, favourite and whatever else. **

**Reviews are love **

**M.S.P **

**Xxxx**

**Translations: **

Si – yes

Ja – yes


	3. It's the Way You Make Me Feel

Steps - It's the Way You Make Me Feel: Franada

**Warning ! This part a mildly rated an M. You have been warned, now please enjoy.**

* * *

It was the general G8 meeting at America's house. On the right hand side of the conference table at least three seats down was an empty seat with a white polar bear cub, at least to so many pairs of eyes. All except one.

France took another sip of his wine and smiled over at Canada, who blushed at this. France always liked Canada; loved his innocence, his knowledge of things and his love of life, nature and animals. He could remember all them years ago when he had met the young nation and had taken him in and look after him and taught him French. But soon he had been taken by England.

It had been pure hell of the Frenchman. He had missed Canada so much. But later on during a war for America's independence, he was reunited with Canada. It had been a heart warming yet tearful reunion which had brightened their spirits up and dampened England's.

But over the years, France had grown...to love the young nation. He had tried so many times to tell Canada of how he felt but so many obstacles kept getting in the way. Like England fighting with him as per usual, wars that took him far from Canada.

France smiled at the Canadian as he watched his brother ran the meeting and talk about heroes and global warming and...who knows what else. France wasn't interested. The only thing that France was interested in was his former colony; his beautiful little brother and son that melted his heart with one look.

But he had often seen Canada with that damned Cuba. France was scared that he would lose his beloved Canada to that damned Commie bastard. He knew that they were just friends but sometimes friendship could blossom into something more like the relationship between Russia and China. But they weren't Russia and China. For one thing Cuba was in the same boat as them...being communists.

France still watched the shy nation, with a look admiration. It was soon cut off when America shouted that the meeting was adjourned. Everyone began to move, shuffling papers, scraping their chairs along the carpet or storming out of the room like England was doing, dragging America with him by the ear.

France shook his head and finished off his wine. As he placed his papers into his brief case, France saw Cuba coming over to Canada and the two began to talk. France felt the monster within him, arouse and began growl threateningly. France watched them as they began to walk out of the room. The monster growled and began to claw at his insides.

"Big Brother France; are you all right?"

France looked around and saw his little sister, Seychelles, looking at him as she clung onto the arm of Estonia. France smiled.

"Perfectly, _mon ami,_ I'm just feeling a little down at ze moment."

"Well, if you need anything."

"I'll let you know, _cherie_."

France smiled and left the room.

France looked down the hall way and saw Cuba and Canada walking down the corridor, still talking. France decided enough was enough. He was the country of love and he would not let his former colony fall in love with somebody else. The monster roared with approval and France took off down the hall. His grip on the suitcase tightened as he got closer to the younger nation.

"Canada?" he called out.

The two nations stopped and turned. Canada blushed as he saw France coming towards him. But before France or Canada could speak, Cuba stood in front of him.

"What do you want, you wine loving bastard?" he growled.

France raised an eyebrow at the dark skinned man. "I'm 'ere to talk to my former colony. Is zat a problem?"

"It is when its people like you!" Cuba growled.

"Yes, well. You see, _mon ami_, I, unlike you, aren't a back stabbing commie. I don't trust you."

"But you trust Russia and China?"

"Russia and China are my allies. You aren't. Now, if you don't mind." And the Frenchman pushed past Cuba and smiled at the flushed nation. "_Bonjour, mon cher. Comment_?"

"_O-o-oui. Je vais bein, merci_."

"_Parfiat, mon cher_. I trust you'll be going to America's Christmas party?"

"As always."

"_Bein_."

Then France did the only thing that he could think of. He leaned down and kissed Canada, but it wasn't just a kiss like you would give to a family member, it was of one that you give to a lover. Passionate and fiery! France could feel the monster in his chest purr with triumph and settled down.

France soon pulled away and whispered in the timid nation's ear. "_Je t'aime, mon suel amour_."

Canada's face was redder than ever. It looked quite cute. France smiled and soon walked away. A small smile plastered on his beautiful face.

He wasn't sure if that had worked or not. It probably did if Canada had blushed. Maybe he felt the same way as France did. But he couldn't put his hopes up too high or else it would work the poor Frenchman up. Francis walked into the bathroom as he was now feeling quite desperate. He walked into a cubicle but seen as no one was around he left the door open.

He had just finished when he heard the door open and footsteps sounding on the marble floor. He buckled his pants up and was about to pick up his briefcase when he felt a pair of slim arms wrap themselves around his waist. France blinked in surprise and looked over his shoulder to see who it was.

A smiling and slightly blushing Canada, was snuggling himself into France's back. France smiled and turned around to face his little colony.

"Canada?" he whispered. "Does zis mean what I zink it means?"

Canada looked up at him and smiled his former carer. "_Oui_, I never thought that you...you felt the same way."

"I do. I am ze country of love after all."

"I know. I've always loved you, France. The day before England took me from you, I knew that there was something there between us."

"Oh, Canada, my beloved; you don't know 'ow 'appy zat makes me feel. God knows 'ow long I've wanted you to say zat."

"Well...I'm glad that today's the day. _Je t'aime_, France."

"_Je t'aime aussi_, Canada."

The younger nation leaned up and kissed the blonde. France smiled against Canada's lips. He loved kissing him, the feeling and the soothing touch of his lips against his own. It felt as though France was in a whole new world. France reached up and cupped Canada's cheek and dove deeper into the kiss. His skin felt so smooth. France could just caress that skin all day. He did when Canada was young and whenever the young country was upset or worried, France would be there for him.

To hold him. To whisper words of comfort and be there to wipe away the tears and to make his beautiful smiles appear. It would often make France feel better to know that his little colony was safe and well.

Canada pulled back from the kiss and looked up into his papa's eyes. France ran his thumbs across his cheeks as tears of joy ran from his eyes. France seemed to be doing the same thing as Canada leaned up to kiss the tears away. The blonde shuddered as he felt smooth lips on his skin. The creature in his chest purred seductively and let out grunts of support, as though egging France to go further.

He obeyed. He wrapped his arms around Canada's waist and hoisted him up, making the violet eyed nation laugh with surprise and amusement. It reminded Canada of when he was younger and he would run to France and soon be hoisted up into his arms and be carried as Canada fell asleep on his papa's shoulder.

France turned back into cubicle and sat Canada down on the seat. He locked the door and turned to face his lover. Canada bit his lip and France came closer to him. He knelt in front of him and placed a slim hand on his knee.

"You okay, Canada?"

"Just...a little...n-nervous."

France smiled, finding him so adorable. "Don't worry, _mon amour_. I'll be gentle and I'll take care of you."

"_Merci_, France."

France leaned up and began to kiss his neck, as he began to fumble with Canada's zip and belt. Canada squirmed a little on the seat, as he felt himself harden with France's touch. France whispered in French comforting words which soothed Canada. The older nation reached into Canada's pants and cupped him gently. Canada gasped.

"France, please."

France nibbled against Canada's ear. "All in good time, _mon cher_."

Canada whimpered against France's shoulder. The Frenchman's talented hands soon pulled Canada's erection free. Canada gasped as the cold air swept over it as well as France's slim fingers. France then drew back from Canada's ear and pressed his forehead against his.

"I'll be gentle. I promise." He whispered as he started a slow pace.

Canada nodded, enjoying the caresses that France was giving on his cock. Canada reached out and began to unzip France's pants. He reached inside and began to stroke the nation at the same pace. Soon the pace began to quicken and moans and seductive French words were whispered and echoed in the empty room.

"Canada...ah_! Mon chou_, I'm close. So close."

"I think I am. God, France!"

"Ah! Oh, _mon dieu_!"

Canada pulled France close to him as he felt himself becoming closer. France bucked his hips against Canada's hand and cried out his name as he came. Canada soon followed. Semen dripped onto the floor and Canada fell back on the seat, gasping for breath. France went limp on Canada's lap. His tongue snaked itself out of his mouth and began to lap up what semen had gone onto the man's bare thighs.

"That's was..._magnifque_, France."

"'Appy to 'elp, _mon amour_." France said, after he finished lapping up Canada's semen. He looked up at his new lover.

Canada looked up at him. Their eyes locked and they smiled at each other. They knew that they were perfect for one another. No doubt about it. Canada slipped off the seat and crawled into France's lap. They embraced each other and France pulled them over to the door. They stayed like this for a long time.

"Are you tired, _mon cher_?" France asked, breaking the silence.

"A little." He said, quietly. "I'll be okay though."

France chuckled his typical French laugh and soon the bath room door opened and a voice called out.

"Oi France, Canada! Are you in here?"

It was England. He was obviously looking for them. France looked at the young nation, who was worried. They didn't know what to do. Footsteps came closer.

There was a knock on the door. "Who's in here?"

France placed a finger to his lips telling Canada to stay quiet.

"_Bonjour_, England. I'm just finishing up in 'ere."

"Oh, right. Well, have you seen Canada?"

"'e was in 'ere. But 'e left."

"But...Cuba said he never left here."

_Merde_! They were trapped. France looked down at his lover, telling him that they had no other choice. Canada nodded.

"We're coming out, _mon ami_." said France, helping Canada up.

"We?" asked England. "Who are we?"

The lovers didn't answer. They just fastened their belts and France grabbed hold of his briefcase and Canada's hand. They nodded 'ready' to each other, unlocked the door and stepped out. England's mouth dropped at the sight of them. France smirked, Canada looked slightly embarrassed.

"What? Wha-wha-wha-wha-what the hell is this?" England screamed.

"Calm down, England. We've just been admitting our feelings."

"Feelings?" England yelled. "What feelings?"

"We're in love, England." said Canada.

"But you can't trust him, Canada. I told you years ago. All he does is sleep around with every single person in sight. He's nothing but a perverted, narcissistic, froggy, womanizing—"

"Oh, just shut up, England!" Canada snapped. "I'm sick of everyone criticizing him. You don't even know him like I do. You didn't even watch him raise me. You took me from him, when I needed him." Canada took a deep breath and exhaled. "I don't care what you or anybody else says. I love France. I want everyone to know that."

France smiled at Canada. He had been staring at him in awe by what he said. "Canada, I love you too."

Canada smiled up at his lover. He leaned in and hugged him closed. France kissed the top of his beloved nation's head and held him close.

England looked at them, a little creeped out. "Excuse me, I'm going to have to and vomit."

France scowled at his ally. England left the bathroom. After England had long gone, France pulled back and knelt down in front of his lover. "Did you mean what you said, Canada?"

Canada smiled and nodded. "Every word."

France smiled, took his hand and kissed it. Canada smiled and pulled France to his feet. "C'mon, let's go and celebrate."

"_Oui, mon cher_. Spain and Prussia should be at zat little night club. I told zem to go to wiz out me. Zen we'll go 'ome togezer and celebrate in our own way." The Frenchman said with a wink.

The Canadian blushed but nodded and together walked out of the bathroom as lovers.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed reading that as much I enjoyed writing it. The next chapter will be updated soon. I still waiting for requests so don't be shy. The next chapter will have USUK material...**

**Also, Bon Anniversaire, France! Love ya 3**

**Reviews are love **

**M.S.P **

**Xxx**

**Translations: **

Mon ami – my friend

Cherie – darling

Bonjour, mon cher – hello, my dear

Comment – How are you?

Je vais bein – I'm fine

Merci – Thank you

Parfiat – perfect

Bein – good

Je t'aime, mon suel amour – I love you my soul mate

Oui – yes

Je t'aime aussi – I love you too

Mon amour – my love

Mon chou – my poppet

Mon dieu – my god

Magnifque – magnificent

Merde – shit/damn


	4. Weekend in New England

Barry Manilow – Weekend in New England: USUK

England stepped out and sighed. He missed being in America. **(*Shot*) **It had been years since he was last here. The last time he was here, he had been fighting in World War Two and they had asked the Americans along with the rest of the Allies to help in the war. America had agreed to help...and be the hero!

The British man swung his bag over his shoulder and walked through the exit of the airport and called for a taxi. He gave the driver the address and then settled down as the taxi took him to his destination. He missed the beautiful sights and scenery America had...to offer.

He was on his way to see an old friend that he hadn't seen in two years. America had no idea England was coming over, he had planned this secretly in hopes that America would spend some time with him.

Four years ago, they had finally admitted their feelings for each other and went out on a few dates. But two years in, England was called back in to the UK to deal with matters there. It had been a real teary goodbye and England left with America crying on Canada's shoulder. England had shed a few silent tears at the airport and on the plane.

As soon as he got home around six, he called America to let him know he was home safe and that he was missing him already. Around half twelve in the morning, they both went off to sleep, dreaming of their lovers.

England was hoping to see his lover soon. He was sure that America would be most surprised to see him. He was hoping to spend time with America to make up or the time he had been far away from him.

The taxi soon arrived an hour later at America's home. The driver turned to him and nodded to the building.

"Is this where ya wanna go?"

"Yes, it is. Thank you, sir."

"Mighty fancy isn't it?"

England smiled at the driver and looked at the building, admiringly. "Yes. He learned from the best."

He thanked the driver and paid him. He then got out of the car, with his luggage and headed towards the house of America. The house was still the same as always with a few modern devices here and there. A secretary came out of a room, talking fast on her mobile. She then noticed England and ended the call.

"Hello, sir. Are you here to see Mr. America?"

"Yes, I am."

"Would you like me to call him to be aware of your arrival?"

"No, ma'am. It's a surprise visit."

"Very well, sir. You want me to show you where he is?"

"No, I think I remember where everything is."

* * *

America sighed, quietly. He was sick of this meeting. He had been stuck in this room for four hours. An hour in and the American was bored. He looked out of the window, wondering why the hell he wasn't out in the sun, relaxing and maybe making a phone call to England. It had been so long since America had seen the Englishman. He had missed him terribly. Canada had tried to comfort him but nothing soothed him.

It had been slightly manic when England and America had fallen out big time when the American Revolutionary War had ended. It had been six or seven years since they had talked and the reason were of England sailing along the seas, fighting France and Spain and other countries. It had been hard on America because he missed his former carer.

"America?"

America looked round. "Huh?"

"Were you listening to a word we were saying?"

"Sorry, Mr Bush. I haven't been myself for these last few days."

"You're not sick, are you, America?" asked one of the congregation.

"Well, now that you mention it, Sarah. I'm feeling a little blue. I'm gonna go and lie down, maybe it clear up or something."

"Sure thing, America. I'll take notes and you can look them over later on this week."

"Thanks, Bush." America stood up from his seat and left the room.

As soon as he closed the door, America's boredom lifted to be replaced by grief. The same heavy weight came crashing down on his chest, making his heart ache. America turned and began to walk back to his room. He needed a lie down. Ill or not, he needed a good long sleep. Ever since England had left to go back home, America's sleeping pattern had been distorted. For three weeks America hadn't slept at all and been lying on his bed crying his heart out for England. Canada had noticed and had taken action. He called England and had told him what was going on with America. England had soon called America and had a long talk with him.

America had tried to sleep for more than three hours but nothing worked. He had tried all sorts of things. A sleeping pill every night, listening to calming music

But nothing had worked. America just couldn't sleep. He called England every night hoping that their nightly chats would put him to sleep. It seemed to work but when America finished the call and he lay down to sleep but he still couldn't sleep.

America opened his door and saw a sight on his bed that he thought he wouldn't see in so long. England was curled up in his bed, smiling at his lover.

"Hello, America. Long time no see."

America didn't say anything he was too stunned to speak. He walked over to his lover. He sat down beside England, and ran a hand across his cheek. He wasn't dreaming. This was real. England was finally here. America smiled and hugged him.

"Oh, England. You're here!"

"I am, America."

America pulled back from the embrace and looked at the Englishman. "What—how—when did you get here?"

"I got here about ten minutes ago. I thought I'd surprise you. It's been a long time, my love."

"Yeah, too right it has. I've missed ya."

"Me too, America. How have you been?"

"Sleep's been crap. I've tried everything to help but nothing."

England sat up, staring at his lover in shock. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Well, you've started now!" England said, his voice rising slightly. When he saw America wince, he lowered his voice and began to nuzzle his neck. "I'm sorry, America. I just can't help but worry about you. But now since I'm here, I suppose you will be sleeping well tonight."

America smiled again at England and hugged him. He could feel his lover's fingers running through his hair and rubbing against his back. He wrapped his arms slightly tighter around England not wanting to let go of him.

"I'm so glad you're here, Iggy." America whispered.

England smiled and let out a small chuckle. "You haven't called me that in ages.

America sniggered. "I know, just felt like the right moment to say it. ya know."

England smiled and kissed his former colony's head. "I know it's very...heroic of you."

"Thanks, England." America drew back against and ran his hand through America's hair. "So, how have you been?"

"I've been good. I've missed you so much, America."

"I know. I have too." said America. "It's been as painful as the time after the America Revolutionary—"

America saw his boyfriend stiffen at the mention of the war that had stopped them being 'related' in the first place. He bit his lip. "Sorry, Iggy."

"It's okay. It's just slightly painful when you talk about that war. It brings back painful memories."

"I know. Every time I walk into a god damn museum, there's always something there that reminds me of it."

"I know." England pulled him close and kissed him.

America smiled against the blonde's lips. He gently pushed England back onto his back against the bed. England wrapped his arms around the young nation's waist. He could feel America's smooth hands running up through his t-shirt. England drew back from the kiss and began take off his shirt and soon helped America remove his jacket and shirt. England then leaned forward and started the kiss off again.

A few hours later, America and England lay flat out on the bed, on top of the wrinkled bed sheets and scattered sheets. Asleep. It was the best sleep that America had gotten in years.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Thought this song was good for this pairing and thought 'what the hell'. So I wrote it and this is the official result...**

**Next up is another GerIta**

**Reviews and requests are welcomed and loved **

**M.S.P **

**xxx**


	5. Being Alive

Stephen Sondheim – Being Alive – GerIta

Germany had felt it coming. He had just been charging his way to find his coward of a leader and soon he had been shot in the waist. He didn't know if it had been a friend or foe but he was going to tear out their throats once he got hold of them. He walked along the destroyed streets, trying to find someone that would help save him from this agonising pain.

There seemed to be no one around for miles. Where had everyone vanished to? The person who had shot him couldn't have gotten far. Germany winced as the pain shot through him. He had to go on or else he'd be stuck here with no help and he'd die on the streets and no would know about this. None of the other countries. Where was his god damn brother? Prussia was probably cowering like his long time pal, France.

Germany slid down the wall he had gripped on to and sat down, clutching his bloody wound. His breaths became heavier. He needed help and fast. His vision was slightly becoming blurred.

"Somebody!" he called. "Help! Please."

Germany coughed and winced through the pain. He heard footsteps coming closer towards him. He looked round and saw that the figure was familiar.

"I—Italy, is zat you?"

"Germany? Germany? What happened?"

"It—Italy...help me..."

And his vision soon clouded and he fell against the wrecked pavement. _  
_

* * *

When Germany woke, he woke up to a night sky, white curtains framing it like a picture frame. A few stars were dotted here and there in the velvet blue sky. Occasionally, yellow and red filled the corners as the war sounded from outside.

War? Germany sat up and let a roar of pain and his hands immediately went to his side. He looked down and saw that he had no shirt on except a large white bandage with a large red stain. It all came flooding back to him. He remembered being shot, by someone; he had been clawing his way through the empty and wrecked streets. He then heard someone calling out to him and he had passed out. But who had been calling out to him? He tried to think but the pain was unbelievable, he couldn't think right. It was just a jumble of memories.

There was a sound of doors opening and Germany turned to see Italy standing there. He seemed to be...crying.

"G-Germany!"

He ran over to Germany's bed and hugged the nation.

"Italy, vhat—vhat are you doing here?"

The little nation didn't answer him. He just sat there, clinging onto Germany for dear life. Germany could hear him whimpering. Was he crying?

"Italy..?"

The little nation slowly looked up at the blonde. "G-Germany...I'm...I'm glad you're okay."

"_Ja_, me too. Vhat happened?"

"You had been shot and you passed out before I could even reach you. I got Japan to help me drag you here to this hospital."

"_Danke_, Italy. Vhat's going on so far?"

"The Allies have now got America on their side. Germany...you've got to stop this. They're tearing your country apart."

"I can't. I have to vin this."

"_Ve~._ Germany..."

"Italy, don't you see if ve vin zis zen you can show zem zat zey can't just push you around all ze damn time. You can show zem vhat you're made of."

"I don't want to see you hurt. Please, stop this from happening."

"Why should I?"

Italy looked away from him. Outside, there was one final blast and then complete silence. The two allies stared at the window, opposite them. Why had it suddenly gone quiet? The war couldn't be over. Not after working and training so hard. This couldn't be the end of something Germany had taken so hard to work for.

The doors opened and Japan entered. He was still in ripped uniform, scarred, bloody and his hair was dishevelled. He had a sad look on his face as he walked over to his allies.

"I am very glad to see that you are recovering Mr. Germany."

"_Danke_, Japan. Tell me und just tell ze truth, _ja_. Is the var...over?"

Japan stared at the blonde nation, then at Italy who was staring down at the floor."

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Germany. Hitler surrendered and apparently, word is going around that he committed suicide."

"Vhat? _Nein_, _nein_."

"_Gomen_, Germany-san. But it's over for us. For you. The Allied Forces have won again."

Germany held his head in his hands. He could believe it! He had lost another god damn war to those idiots! **(*)** What news would he give his brother when they met? As if Japan had read his mind, he spoke.

"Russia has invaded Prussia, he's been kidnapped. There is only me left."

"Do vhat you have to do. I must get out of here before my house gets infiltrated by zose Allies."

Germany got up but as stopped by Italy grabbing hold of him. "Italy? Vhat's vrong?

"Please don't go out there, Germany. I don't want you to get hurt. Please."

Germany stared at his ally. Why didn't he suddenly want to stop him from fighting?

"Italy?"

Japan cleared his throat and mumbled something about going off back into the war and left the room.

Germany looked at the Italian. Italy was still looking down at the floor, guiltily and somewhat saddened. Germany moved slightly closer to the red head, wincing from the pain. He reached up and tilted Italy's face to look into his eyes. Germany was shocked to see tears, streaming from the Italian's eyes.

"Italy, what's wrong?

"I...I don't want you to be wounded or be left out there, dying. I...already had a close friend die in a war...so many years ago. I lost all my friends because they would become complete assholes. I don't want to lose you to this war. I...I care about you too much to even think about it."

Germany stared at Italy for a long time. There was silence filled with yelling and screams from outside. Germany blinked and sagged.

"I had no idea you felt zat vay about me. I should have maybe taken notice."

"_Si_. I...better get going. The Allies will be coming soon to sign a peace treaty."

"Italy! Wait!"

Germany leaped from the bed, ignoring the pain rising in his side. He grabbed hold of Italy and pulled him towards his body. He wrapped his arms around the smaller nation and held him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Italy. I should have realised that you...were one of them."

"What?"

"You know. A homosexual. I never knew because of all those girls you used to flirt with but maybe you didn't know then...but now maybe you do."

"Germany..."

Germany drew back slightly from the hug and looked down at him.

"I should have realised too."

"Really?"

"_Ja_. _Ich lieben dich_, Italy."

"_Ti amo_, Germany."

Germany leaned down and kissed the smaller nation, making him whimper in surprise. The Italian moved his head back to lean more into the kiss. After ten minutes of tonsil tennis, Germany drew back and brushed away some of the Italian's face.

"_Danke_, Italy."

"For what, Germany?"

"For helping me stay alive."

* * *

**A/N: **

**(*) just for reference, the Allies aren't idiots, Germany. They're just very...whatyamacallit...very eager that they do stupid things and mess up. 'Cept France, he just drinks wine and eats cheese a lot... *goes into dreamy France stage*. **

**Anyway...thank you for reading this chapter. Sorry I haven't updated in so long for the last two weeks I've been in Scotland. I downloaded Hetalia onto my laptop to keep me from being bored and watching crap on telly. It makes sane...yaoi sane. **

**But anyways, next chapter will consist of Germancest **

**Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P **

**xxxx **

**Translations: **

Danke – thank you

Nein – no

Gomen – sorry

Ich lieben dich – I love you

Ti amo – I love you


	6. Scheibe

Scheiβe – Lady Gaga – Germancest

**A/N: Warning Germancest (slight S&M) smut ahead! If you are 18 and over, then carry on reading. If not then skip to the next chapter (if there is one). You have been warned. Rated M! I'll move the rating up as well, for safety. **

**Anyway for those of you who have stayed, please get an oxygen tank or a cute paramedic on standby and also a box of tissues of the blood you'll probably lose. Enjoy ;) xxx**

* * *

The room was lit only by a single bulb that hung loosely in the dark room. The lamp shade round it was ripped. In the middle of the room sat an old four post bed, with a stained mattress lying on top of it. On top of the mattress, lay a man with his hands and feet tied to the post. He lay on the bed, his head cocked to the right and he seemed asleep. But really he was unconscious.

His white albino hair was dishevelled from what it used to be. He was lying there in the cold draft with only his boxers on. A few sounds came from outside but no one came into the room.

A few minutes later, the man opened a sleepy eye. Then the next eye opened revealing crimson red eyes. He blinked a few times and looked around the room. He tried to get up but he couldn't move. He looked up towards the headboard and saw his wrists bound. He looked down and saw that his feet were also bound.

"How ze fuck did I get in zis mess?" he asked himself.

He tried again to free his wrists but the ropes were tight. He looked around but there was nothing in the room. Just him and the bed he was lying on. Something caught his eye and he looked over to the door. A light had come on from the room behind the door. He heard footsteps coming closer to the room. The steel door clicked as though someone was unlocking the door.

The door opened to reveal a tall man wearing a trench coat and a cap over his eyes. The man looked up and smirked at the man on the bed.

"_Hallo, bruder_." The man said.

The man, who was lying on the bed, stared at the second. "West? Vhat ze hell? You put me in here?"

The man, known as West, sighed and stepped closer to the bed. "You know zat's not my name. I am Germany not West. Honestly, Prussia I zought _vatti_ taught you well."

"Shut up, West." Prussia snarled. "Und vhat's viz zis, eh? Who's idea vas zis? Vas it Hungary? I knew she vas veird. Or vas it Austria?"

"Neizer. Alzough, Hungary did approve."

"Zen who?"

"Me." Germany said, unbuttoning the long black trench coat.

Prussia stared at his brother, alarmed. "You?! Vhy?"

Germany chuckled. "Because it amuses me und also I get to teach you a lesson."

"Vhat?" Prussia shrieked. "Look, West, zis is not awesome _or_ funny."

Germany laughed. "So, you don't like it vhen ozer people pull pranks und such but it's fucking hilarious vhen you do it.

"_Ja_, because I'm ze Awesome Prussia!"

Germany rolled his eyes. Germany finished unbuttoning the trench coat and took it off to reveal himself wearing tight leather shorts and leather clad boots. He reached in the coat and pulled out a long whip. Prussia felt disgusted but slightly turned on by seeing his brother wearing his old Nazi hat, tight leather shorts and boots. The albino was surprised that France wasn't here snapping pictures. Germany walked over to the bed and threw his coat onto the floor. He took the whip and ran it across Prussia's bare foot. Prussia whimpered.

Damn it, Germany knew all of Prussia's weak spots. This wasn't fair. Germany smiled and ran the whip up his leg to his boxers.

"West, ve shouldn't be doing zis. Ve're _bruders_!"

"You're cock says different..._und_ yourself."

Prussia looked down and saw that he was slightly hard. He tried to cover himself up but it was difficult to try when his legs were tied up. Prussia shifted uncomfortably.

"West, stop it please."

Germany didn't say anything. He moved over to the side of the bed and reached down to cup Prussia in his firm hand. Prussia moaned as Germany began to massage him through the material of his boxers. Prussia could feel himself hardening from his brother's touch. He grinded his hips into the touch and squirmed against the mattress.

"You like zis, _ja_?"

"_Ja_~ Oh, _mein Gott_, West. I taught you well."

Germany chuckled at this. "You taught me nozing, Prussia. I taught myself zis. I had heard about it from ozer countries."

"You didn't take advice from France, did you?"

"Don't be a _dummpkoft_! I vouldn't take training from zat vine-loving bastard!"

Prussia chuckled and moaned as Germany's touch became sharp and hard.

"Ahhh! West, vhat za hell vas zat for?"

Germany didn't say anything; he just raised the whip and brought it down hard on Prussia, making him cry out. The albino looked up at his younger brother. Since when was Germany so harsh with him? True, he may have punched Prussia a few times and made him work to hard but Germany wasn't heavily into...this kind of stuff. Or was he? There wasn't much that his brother told him these days ever since he became old enough to become independent.

Germany leaned down towards Prussia and kissed him as he fumbled with the former nation's boxers. Prussia groaned in surprise at this but leaned into the kiss none the less. Germany shifted his position on the bed until he was straddling Prussia. He ground his hips against his brother's making him groan into the kiss.

Germany tore away from the kiss and began to tease at the waistband of Prussia's boxers. They were soon pulled down and Prussia whimpered as the cold air of the room smacked against the throbbing organ.

"West..." Prussia groaned.

Germany shushed him by whipping his brother's chest. "Pipe down."

Prussia whimpered as Germany soon leaned down and blew gently on his erection, sneaking his tongue out a few times, licking away the pre-cum. Prussia moaned in pleasure as he felt his brother's tongue on him. Germany licked at Prussia's cock for a few moments and soon took the organ into his mouth.

"Fuck, West! Ah!"

Germany smiled around his brother's cock and soon began to pump it with his mouth. Prussia groaned and squirmed on the bed as his brother's pace began to quicken and his sucks became harder. Prussia's muscles began to clench as he could feel himself drawing closer.

"West, I'm so...c-close. Please."

Germany then took his mouth off him and began to stroke the hard organ, making Prussia buck against the blonde's hands.

"_Mein_ _Gott_, West. Ahhh!"

Semen spurted onto Germany's fingers, coating them like spider webs. Germany released his brother and began to teasingly lick the semen. Prussia watched, his body shaking from his orgasm. Once Germany was done, he leaned over his brother and flipped his brother onto his stomach making the rope twist over. Prussia did his best to look over his shoulder at the German who was now spreading his butt cheeks and leaning down towards him.

"Fuck! West. Vhat are you doing?"

Germany didn't answer. He was too busy licking around Prussia's hole to reply and he was enjoying it. Prussia ground his hips into the bed, but Germany gripped tightly onto his hips keeping the squirming Prussian still. But Prussia was making it difficult for his brother as he was wanted to feel more of his brother in him.

As Prussia clumsily rolled his hips in circles, he moaned and felt his brother's tongue sink inside of him. Prussia dug his face into the mattress and Germany's tongue wiggled inside of him and the sensation was soon lost when the tongue was removed. He looked over his shoulder as best he could, to see Germany reaching under the bed and out some lube. He opened the lid, tipped over and squeezed as the clear sticky liquid dripped on his fingers. He then rubbed most of the liquid inside of Prussia.

When he was done, he slipped off the shorts to reveal his ever so hard erection.

_Mein Gott, _Prussia thought, _he's huge! _

Germany then positioned himself at the albino's entrance and slid in.

"G-ah! G-Germany..._fuck_!"

"Prussia!" the blonde moaned. "Are you a virgin?"

"Vhat? Vhy vould you ask such an absurd question? Of course I'm not."

"You seem so tight zough." Germany groaned as he moved further in the Prussian, to make him adjust to his size.

"_Ja_, vell, it's been quite a vhile since I vas last fucked." Prussia said, groaning a little from his brother's massive organ.

"Who vas it?"

"Ahh! It vas – god – France und Spain. Ve had sex during ze Austrian Succession. It vas a good night. Ve never forgot it. But zen Spain got into debt und France vas busying himself over his _'mon petite Canada'_. I vas left alone. Ve had planned to get togezer but...ah! – ve never did."

Germany looked down at his brother, seeing a tear running down his cheek. He leaned down and brushed it away with his lips. "I'm here for you, _bruder_. I'll look after you now."

Prussia smiled. Germany leaned up and untied the ropes from his wrists. Prussia sighed with relief and hoisted himself up onto his elbows. Once Germany was finished with the ropes at Prussia's ankles, he hoisted the older nation on his knees and soon began to move in and out of his brother.

Prussia gasped he felt his brother fill him fully and then left him and then filled him once again. His pace changed every minute, making Prussia cry out in ecstasy. He clinged onto his brother; loving every moment that he was giving him. He could feel his younger brother's hand trailing down to his ignored erection and gripped it in his hand and pumped it the second time. Prussia's breaths became hitched, tears of joy and sweet bliss, trailing down his cheeks.

Germany pounded into Prussia harder his pace on Prussia's cock, matching it. Prussia gulped and moaned.

"_Bruder_, I'm...so close...please..."

"Nearly zere..._bruder_."

Prussia yelled as he came in his brother's hand a second time and his brother followed. Germany lay limp on top of him, limply, catching his breath. Prussia leaned into him, inhaling his scent and nuzzling against his skin.

"You vere _wunderbar, bruder_." He moaned between breaths.

Germany smiled and kissed the lobe of his brother's ear. He sat up slowly and pulled himself out. Prussia shuffled over so that they both lay side by side. Germany held his brother close, trying to catch his breath.

"Zat...zat _vas_..._wunderbar_." he panted.

"_Ja_." Said Prussia, chuckling through his pants. "Zat's because I'm so awesome!"

Germany chuckled and rested his head against his brother's. "I suppose I can agree to zat!"

Prussia smiled and before he knew it sleep crept over him. Germany looked down and saw his brother sleeping and snoring lightly. Germany smiled and kissed his brother's forehead twice and snuggled down with him and slept peacefully. Everything else round them was forgotten.

* * *

Outside of the room, Hungary had her ear pressed against the door, silently squealing from all the yaoi she had overheard. Austria came down the hallway to see his old childhood friend leaning against the door shaking with mirth.

"Hungary!" he called.

Hungary jumped, turned and smiled at Austria.

"Vhat are you doing by zat door?"

Hungary placed a finger to her lips and shushed the Austrian. She leaped up and scampered over to him. "I zink zat Mr. Germany has tamed Prussia."

"Vhat? You're joking, right?"

Hungary shook her head, a wide grin spreading across her face. Austria raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Hungary led him over to the door and the musician placed his ear against the door. He listened carefully, but could hear nothing but silence.

"I hear nozing."

Hungary pressed her ear to the door to also hear silence. "Funny. I heard zem going at it like animals."

"Oh, vell. Come on, let's leave zem to it." he said, turning to walk away. Hungary shrugged and ran off to call Japan and Taiwan the latest. When the ecstatic Hungarian left, the Austrian turned to stare at the door. Wondering why it was Germany that had tamed the Prussian and...Not him.

Several hours later, Prussia stretched and rolled over, only to fall out of the bed and face floored himself against the cold floor.

"_Scheiβe_, vhat za hell..." he looked around the room and suddenly memories of hours ago popped into his head.

"Oh, _mein gott_. Zat's right, I fucked West."

Germany moaned above him and turned over in the bed. Prussia stood up and clambered back on to the bed. He smiled down at his little brother.

He couldn't believe that his little brother that he had found and raised to become a strong nation had managed to tame a wild child like Prussia.

Prussia smiled and brushed his brother's blonde hair. Even though, he _had_ been tamed by Germany he was still The Great Awesome Prussia and he couldn't wait to tell France and Spain the next time he saw them.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Phew! Thank god, it's finally finished. Sorry that this has taken soooooo long to update but this chapter has been really difficult to write, also I've been suffering with writer's block and last week has been really hectic what with my birthday (19****th****, I'm getting slowly old :P ) and also I've had choir and dance performance and the next day I had a christening to go to. **

**Anway, Prison Break – chapter 3 will be posted either Thursday or Friday depends when I finish it. also I've come up with several ideas for my new fanfictions but once I've finished 'Bad Touch Trio – A Lovegame', 'Prison Break' and 'Saved By a Pirate' they will be posted, so I'm currently planning and writing them but I have no intention of posting them on here yet! **

**Now, hope you've enjoyed this chapter as much I have enjoyed writing it. Hehehehe **

**Reviews and requests are love :) **

**M.S.P. **

**Xxx **

**Translations: **

Vatti – father

Dummpkoft – idiot

Mon petite – my little

Wunderbar – wonderful

Bruder – brother

Scheiβe – shit


	7. Don't Talk to Strangers

Don't Talk to Strangers – Hedley – USUK + minor Franada

**Warning: USUK and Franada smut. Human names used. AU!**

* * *

The first time Alfred Jones had met Arthur Kirkland was in the bar, Soho's Joint, in New York.

He had just come there from school with his best friends, Mathias and Kiku – a Japanese transfer student – and began to perform. After a few songs, they began to play their 'theme song' American Idiot. Or rather Alfred's theme song. They had gotten the audience warmed up and then...

He entered.

Alfred saw him come in as though he had been expecting it. As the band struck up for the 1bridge, he watched the man walk into the room and turned to watch them. Their eyes met and Alfred stared at him. The man was most likely in his early forties, with messy short blonde hair and startling green eyes. Above them sat huge eyebrows – which Alfred thought were quite cute. Bizarre but cute! He had a smirk on his face and turned to the bar. Alfred stared at the man's ass.

_Nice rear bumper_, Alfred thought as he examined the man's body. Suddenly, he felt a kick in his shins. Alfred looked around and Kiku nodded to the microphone in front of Alfred. He must have missed his cue.

Damn that cute blonde! Alfred sang out his part and soon the song ended. The audience cheered and applauded.

"Thanks, dudes. Hope you have a fun night. God bless you. We're singing out!"

Alfred jumped off the stage and followed Kiku and Mathias to where the cases of their instruments were left. As Alfred packed up his guitar, he caught sight of the sexy blonde who was sipping beer and caught sight of the American staring at him. He laughed quietly to himself and beckoned the young boy over. Alfred blushed, looked round and looked at the blonde dude. He pointed at himself as though questioning the blonde. The blonde sighed, rolling his eyes and nodded as though saying 'yes, you dumb ass!' Alfred beamed and turned to his band mates.

"All right, dudes. I'm off to speak to a fan. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, Alfred. See you soon."

"Peace out, Alfie." Mathias said, slinging his drum kit over his shoulder and left with Kiku as Alfred walked over to his new fan.

"Hey, dude!"

"Hello." The man said, before taking a sip of his beer.

Whoa! Alfred thought. He's British. Alfred had this little kink for foreign accents but with his step-dad being French, _that_ accent was a big turn off, but British accents were the best.

"Cool, so you're British?"

"Of course, I am. I'm Arthur Kirkland."

"Nice to meet ya! Name's Alfred Jones."

"Charmed. So how long have you sang with the band for?"

"Well, since I started high school. I've always had a big passion for music. So, I and my bestie's decided to be a band. We've played in here for three years now."

"Interesting."

There was something in Arthur's eyes that Alfred couldn't quite figure out what. But there was a certain fire in his eyes that made Alfred slightly...uncomfortable.

"So, how long have you been in America for?"

"About a four of years; I moved here with my son two years after his mother died. We thought it might be best of us, you know."

"Sure, dude."

There was silence between them. Occasionally, Arthur gulping down his beer, as though it was water. Then the Brit broke it with the most odd that Alfred had been given. "So, are you single?"

"Ah...well, umm...yes. Why d'you wanna know that?"

"Well..." he said, gulping down the last dregs of beer and pushed the glass away. "What do you say to come back to my place? For a nice little chat and who knows..." a smooth hand suddenly began to travel up Alfred's thigh. "I could let you stay the night as it is a Friday."

"Umm...sure, dude. Whatever you say."

Arthur grinned. He stood up from his seat and tugged the student out from the bar and over to a dark green Rolls Royce. Arthur unlocked the car and clambered in. Alfred jumped in and strapped on his seatbelt as Arthur drove them out of the car park and took them along the road to Arthur's home.

* * *

After thirty minutes of driving, Alfred stared in awe at the house in front of him. Arthur cut the engine and smiled at the look on Alfred's face.

"Shall we go in, love?"

"Er, okay."

Arthur smiled and they both hopped out the car and entered the house. Alfred looked around the place. The small hall way led into the living room that had a small bar tucked into a far corner of the room, an old fashioned Victorian fireplace faced a dark brown leather couch with golden cushions and the sofa cushion were covered with snow white sheets. A small coffee table sat in front of the sofa. A small bottle containing a ship sat in the middle. A small three tiered light was hung from the ceiling. The floor was wooden and a fake fur lined carpet lay in front of the fire.

"Nice place ya got here."

"Thank you. You can sit down if you want to."

"Oh, thanks."

"So?" Arthur said walking over to the bar. "What do you want to drink?"

"I dunno. What ya got?"

"Beer, tea, coffee, Spanish wine, Italian wine, German beer, wine, vodka. If you want French wine, then you can bugger off."

"Well...my step-dad's French. But I don't bother with wine. Prefer beer."

"You poor sod. What was your poor mother thinking marrying a French?"

"I dunno. She married Francis when I was young. My dad left us before I was born. Francis promised to help my mom raise me as though I was his own. But then a few years later, my mom was killed in a car accident."

The America teenager looked up to see the Brit looking at him with a horrified look on his sexy face. "I'm...so sorry to hear that, Alfred. I had no idea."

"It's all right." Alfred said with a shrug. "Anyway, the frog's a complete idiot. What my mom saw in him, I'll never know."

The Englishman chuckled and walked over to the couch and sat – rather closely – next to Alfred, handing him his drink. "So, this may seem...impolite to ask but how old are you?"

"Seventeen, dude. In a few weeks time I'll be eighteen. A legal adult."

"Sounds like you've been waiting for this day?"

"Yup. Cause I might skip my last grade and maybe do a bit of travelling. I might go off to visit good ol' London town."

"You should. It gets very beautiful around the summer."

"Thanks, dude. So...tell me how old you are?"

Arthur choked a little on his tea. "Forty, why?"

"Cool. So, where's your son?"

"Out with a few friends. Bowling alley or a school play or something." Arthur paused before he could take a sip. "Why do you ask?"

Alfred shrugged a small smile on his face. Arthur smirked. He took hold of Alfred's drink and set his and Alfred's down on the coffee table. He smirked as climbed on top of the American and looked at him, his eyes full of hot and hungry lust!

"Open wide, me lovely."

And Arthur crushed his lips on Alfred's. Alfred hesitated as he recovered from the shock of the older man kissing him. But soon after a quick recovery of kissing the man, Alfred kissed back, wrapping his arms around the older man's waist, pulling him close. _  
_

Alfred felt Arthur's arms wrap around his neck. Arthur's tongue ran across Alfred's lips, begging for entry. Alfred agreed and opened up the kiss, letting the warm tongue slid in and explored his mouth. Alfred lay back on the sofa so that they were spread eagled out on the couch. Alfred slid his tongue in the Brit's mouth. As Arthur's hands wandered down, Alfred suddenly bolted up. Arthur sat in his lap, his lips a little red and puffy. He looked at Alfred, questioningly.

"Alfie, what's wrong?"

But the younger man said nothing. He suddenly remembered what Francis had told him not long after his mom passed away. He had sat Alfred down and told him that he had to be safe for his own doing.

"_Don't talk to strangers, _mon cher_ Alfred. If you trust zem zen you'll only end up getting hurt. I only want to be safe, after what 'appened to your mama. _D'accord_?" _

"_Sure, Franny. Whatever you say." _

"Merci, mon cher_." _

"Alfred, talk to me! What's wrong?"

Alfred suddenly stood up, knocking Arthur to the floor.

"Ow, you wanker! What was that for?"

"I'm sorry; Arthur...but I can't do this. I...I hardly know you."

"Why do you think I called you over? So I could become your sugar daddy? Make me seem like a man-whore. When I saw you on that stage, Alfie, there was something about you that made me crave you. After me and my son moved here, I found out something that I had never told anyone. I found out I was gay, I told my son, Matthew and he was fine, he understood." He sighed and leaned against the couch, his eyes closed. "He is so much like his mum."

He then opened his eyes and glared at Alfred. "But I suppose you can't _see_ that I was maybe looking for a new start."

"Artie...I'm just a kid."

"You said it yourself you couldn't wait to be eighteen." He stood up and walked over to Alfred, placing both hands on the younger man's shoulders. "I don't want to make you feel like a prissy little kid. I want to make you feel like a man." He brushed a strand of loose caramel hair from his eyes. "I want you to understand that I need to start a fresh and that I want you, you blithering idiot."

Alfred started at the older man and a small smile crept on his face. Arthur smiled and leaned in close to the younger man. He kissed him and dragged him over to the sofa, lips still locked. They lay down on the sofa and stood Alfred's school jumper was pulled off and a few buttons came undone. Alfred laughed a little into Arthur's mouth, making the green eyed man pull away.

"What the bloody hell are sniggering about?"

"Nothing, bro. It's just that if someone told me I'd be kissing an older man than I wouldn't have believed it."

Arthur rolled his eyes and slapped him on the shoulder playfully. "Shut up, you fool and kiss me." _  
_

Alfred smirked and pulled the Brit in for a kiss. As Alfred stripped off Arthur's shirt, there was a noise from the hallway and a small voice called out. Arthur groaned. He pulled away and sat up.

"In here, Mattie!" He then turned to Alfred, who was scowling. "Don't be mad, please. Be nice to my son."

The living room door opened and Matthew Williams stepped in the room. Alfred let a gasp as Arthur smiled at his son. "How was your day, son?"

"Okay. By the way, Katushya sends that album...you gave her." And at that moment, Matthew saw Alfred.

"Well, I hope she enjoyed it." Arthur said, taking hold of the CD. "Oh, by the way, this is Alfred Jones. Alfred, this is my son, Matthew."

"Yeah, I know, dad. We're in the same class at school."

Arthur looked between them. "Oh. Right...Want a drink, Mattie?"

"No thanks, dad. I've had one."

"Okay then. I'll go into the kitchen and get started on something to eat. Alfie, do you want to stay for some lunch?"

"Yeah, okay. If that's fine with you, Mattie. I'll just call my dad and tell him that I'm stopping over at one of my band mates' house."

"Of course."

Arthur winked at him and left the living room and headed to the kitchen. As soon as the door closed, Mattie turned on Alfred.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Why the hell are you here?"

"Whoa, calm down, dude. Your dad invited me here."

"My god, you're so full of it. My dad could be put away for having sex with you."

"Matt, I'm seventeen. I'm of age and soon I'll be eighteen. Unlike you."

"I'm seventeen too, moron. We are in the same class plus, I'm older than you."

"Whatever, dude. And like I said it was your dad that invited me here."

"Let me guess. You fucked on the couch?"

"No way, dude. We kissed over there, but who knows...tonight we might."

"You're disgusting, you know that."

"Oh, c'mon, Mattie. Could you not see the sexual tension between me and your dad?"

"Fuck you, Alfred! Dad!" he yelled. "I'm going back out. I'll have lunch at Soho's Joint."

"You sure, Mattie?" Arthur asked, coming back into the room with an apron on that said 'Kiss the Cook'.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll see you soon. Goodbye, Alfred."

"See you Monday, Matt."

Matthew growled and stormed out of the door. Arthur watched his son go and turned sadly to Alfred. "Sorry about my son. He's not usually like this."

"It's all right. More food for us."

"Ah, well, you know what they say."

"Who say?" Alfred asked nervously as Arthur came close.

"They say a way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Alfred grinned. "I like that saying." He said, with a chuckle as Arthur leaned in close to give him a kiss.

* * *

Matthew pushed open the door and walked over to the bar. He ordered a diet coke and checked his Twitter page on his phone. He paid for his drink and sat on a bar stool and logged off his Twitter page to check his Facebook wall.

"Mathieu? _Petit_ Mathieu? Is zat really you_, mon cher_?"

Matthew turned round and saw Alfred's step-dad, Francis Bonnefoy, coming over to him. "Oh_, bonjour, Monsieur_ _Bonnefoy_."

"Oh, please, _mon petit_, call me Francis." He said sitting down next to the teen.

"O-okay. So, how are you?"

"_Bein, mon cher. Et tu_?"

"Same. Just found out something that will probably scar me for life."

"Oooh, tell me all ze dirt."

"I don't think you'll believe me."

"Oh, Mathieu. Do you not trust me?"

"It's not that it's just...never mind."

"Whatever you say, _mon petit_?"

Matthew smiled. "So, how are you, _Monsieur_—I mean Francis? What's life throwing at you?"

"Nozing at all, _mon cher_. I've had no dates and I'm so horny I could dry hump a lamp post."

Matthew blushed at this remark. Then he smiled as he thought of his dad and Alfred at home. Going at like rabbits. Maybe...

"Umm, Francis?"

"_Oui_~"

"I know this is kinda out of the blue. But would you like to go out on a date with me?"

Francis stared at the young boy for a few moments. Then that gorgeous smile broke out on that handsome face. "_Bien sûr, mon cher_. Tell you what, let's – how do you say – blow zis place and head back to mine, for a three course meal. And maybe we could 'ave dessert in bed."

Matthew's blush went from a light pink tinge to an alarming red. "_D-d-d'accord_. Let's go."

Francis smiled and the two clasped hands and walked out of the bar, heading over to Francis' blue convertible.

Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe Alfred had a point of having a sugar daddy. But the best thing was they both knew who the sugar daddies were related to.

At Francis' house, Matthew smiled after the main course and took the glass of white wine that Francis had so kindly offered. The blonde man sat down next to him and Matthew snuggled up beside him, sipping his wine.

"This is a lovely view you have here, Francis."

"_Merci, mon cher_. Zis is one of ze reasons why I chose zis place. I zought it would be nice for Alfred and _moi_. Unfortunately, his mama wasn't around to see zis place."

"Do you still love her?"

"I do _oui_. But I know she would want me to move on and find someone zat it will give me ze same love she did."

Matthew bit his lip and looked up at the Frenchman. "Well, do you think that maybe _that_ person could be...close by?"

Francis took a sip from his wine and smiled down at the shy Canadian. "Well, shall I let you in a little secret?"

Matthew sat up a little, a small smile creeping on his face. "Yeah, okay."

Francis took the last gulp from his wine and placed his glass down on the window sill. "Well, it started about a few years ago – but to be more precise – it was four years ago. I met zis cute little Canadian boy called...Mathieu Williams. I zought he was ze most beautiful boy I ever met."

Matthew blushed at this but continued to listen, intrigued.

"I knew zen, _mon cher_, about my sexuality and how it had changed. It 'appens to a few of men when zey lose zier partners. But somehow I knew zat zis little Mathieu would fall for me like I would fall for him."

Matthew stared at Francis. The younger man soon regretted trying to get his own back on Alfred, because he was starting to fall for the Frenchman, who had loved him for a while.

"Well, I know one thing, Francis."

"What is zat, _mon cher_?"

"I think I could be feeling the same way. _Je t'aime_."

Francis beamed and leaned down to kiss the younger man. Matthew felt as though fireworks were exploding inside him. It was a display that was even better than the ones that he had seen at fourth July. The kiss was soon broken by Francis as he stared down at the younger boy.

"Are you ready for dessert, _mon cher_?"

"_Oui_. Make me yours, Francis."

* * *

"Must you go now, Alfie?" the older blonde asked, as Alfred changed into his clothes.

"'Friad so, babe. Pop's will be wondering where the hell I am. I've been here for four hours and dad could be having the police send out a search party."

"I thought you called your father?"

"Yeah, but I got distracted by some British sugar." Alfred cooed, leaned down to kiss his lover.

"So I am your sugar daddy?" Arthur purred.

"Better than whore, right?"

Arthur laughed and rolled over. "Well, I better get up and call Mattie. He's been out for four hours too. I'm surprised he hasn't called."

"Probably his battery died or summat."

"Maybe. I might call and see." Arthur said, sitting up the bed sheets tangling up in his slim yet toned legs. "Well, I hope to see you again, love. Wanna meet me here tomorrow for round two?"

"I would love to, babe. In fact I'd love to stay the night and 'make fireworks all night long' but I gotta make sure that the frog is not having a heart attack."

Arthur sighed and rolled over to lover. "Well, tell him from me, his son's got a horny lover that wants him chained to his bed for eternity."

"Ooooh, who knew Brits could be so kinky?"

"You better believe it. Now go before I _do_ chain you to the bed keep you here."

Alfred chuckled and kissed his lover goodbye. He called a taxi and headed back to his home. It wasn't long before he got home; he paid the driver and walked up the drive. His dad was at home at least. When he opened the door, the house was empty and still.

"Dad?"

There was no French greeting that he usually got every day. In fact it was nothing but silence. Or at least there had been until he heard moans and bed springs squeaking.

"Ah, a-ah! Francis! Ahhh!"

"Oh_, mon cher_!"

Alfred quirked an eyebrow. He could believe that the frog had called a male hooker over! He stormed up the stairs to the older man's bedroom and pushed the door open. Lying in the bed was his father, his long blonde hair messed up and hanging loosely from its ponytail. He was naked with only the bed sheets covered his lower body. But beneath him lay...

"Mattie!" _  
_

Both blondes looked around to see Alfred, looking horrified. Francis sat up pulling his lover close to him.

"Alfred, please. We can explain zis."

"Oh, really? Well this doesn't need much explaining apart from the fact that you two are shagging each other's brains out."

Wow, Arthur must have really rubbed off on Alfred – literally and figuratively speaking of course.

"Oh, Alfred. Relax, will you?" said Matthew, pulling back a little from the embrace. "I already told your papa, about you and my dad."

Alfred's face paled. "You what?"

"Zat's right_, mon petit_. Fucking a man who's twice your age. Shocking!"

"Yeah, well look who's talking. You're only shagging my dad to get back at me."

"That's not true, Alfred. I...I love your dad and he loves me."

"What?"

"It's true_, mon fils. __I aime tellement_."

"I wha...?"

"I love him, Alfred. I 'ave always zought your little friend was a little cutie."

Matthew blushed at this and nuzzled into the older man's stubble. Alfred flinched at this.

"My god, bro!"

"What are you talk about Alfred, you had did ze same wiz his papa? And I've 'eard you planned on doing...a bit more." Francis said with a wink.

Alfred blushed at this remark. "Yeah, so..."

"So, did you?"

"Did what?"

"Did you make love wiz ze old Brit?"

"Hey!" Matthew murmured.

"Oh_, pardonnez-moi, mon amour_." Then he turned back to his step-son to hear his answer.

"So what if I did? You fucked Mattie."

"Exactly, Alfred. So, 'ere's ze deal. If you tell on me and _mon cher_i Mathieu zen we'll tell you and your British older lover...or vice versa. _Comprendre_?"

"Huh?"

Francis sighed. "I wish you paid attention in your French lessons. I said understand?"

"Oh, right. Sure thing pops. Now, I'll head over to Arthur's for the night seen as Mattie is stopping here."

"You do zat_, mon fils_."

"See ya tomorrow, maybe."

"_Au revoir_." The two new lovers said, lying back on the bed and snuggling up to each other._  
_

Alfred rolled his eyes and took his step-dad's car and drove to back to Arthur's. He got out of the car and knocked on the door. When the door opened, Arthur was wearing a mint green dressing gown. He looked happy yet shocked to see Alfred back so soon.

"Hello, love. Come back for more?"

"Sure have, babe and by the way," Alfred said, walking inside as Arthur closed the door. "I found where your son was hiding. Or rather doing."

"I don't understand, Alfred." Arthur said, placing his hands in his gown's pockets.

"I found him back at my house, naked and shagging my pop."

There was silence for a moment or two. Arthur's huge eyebrows began to twitch menacingly then he took a deep breath.

"He...he...WHAT?!"

Alfred flinched. "Umm, babe..."

"That little...I...I can't believe this! My son is _shagging_ a frog. A frog?! My son can do fucking better than that."

"Well, I think they may have gotten a little cosy 'cause they say they love each other."

"WHAT?" Arthur's voice suddenly went a little high pitched.

"Artie, listen. It's really no biggie—"

"No biggie?_ No biggie_?! My son hardly knows the bloody cheese-eating surrendering monkey!"

"Well, they've met at parent meetings and on the streets when they're out."

"Matthew never told me this!"

"Maybe he did..." Alfred walked up to the fuming Englishman and hugged him close. "Maybe you just didn't want to know cause my pop's a frog."

Arthur sighed. "Fine...come on, love. Let's go for round two then shall we?"

"Yes, please, bro." _  
_

"Please don't call me, bro. I'm your lover not you're 'Homie'."

"Homie or horny?"

Arthur growled and pulled the teenager up the stairs to his bedroom.

* * *

A few weeks later, the two dads met and decided – or rather be forced – to come to agreements that they had to get along for their sons' and lover's sake. And it had gone a little something like this:

_Alfred and Matthew had exchanged numbers the following day after a long chat about the two being in a relationship with each other's fathers. They both decided to make their father's meet up and _try_ and get along. Matthew called Alfred one day to meet them at Soho's Joint - the place where everything started. Alfred agreed and then the two sons then told their fathers to come along with them to the bar to talk. _

_Both fathers had been a little reluctant at first but when they both realised what it was truly about, they soon decided to come along. They told their parents to meet them at Soho's at three in the afternoon. _

_Now, Alfred and Matthew were both sitting in a corner not too far from the door and both slightly nervous about the meeting. _

"_It's going to be okay, isn't it?" Matthew asked, for the umpteenth time. _

"_Mattie, I told ya, they'll get along like a house fire." _

"_I don't even know if that actually sounds good or not." Matthew said, drumming his fingers on the table, annoyingly. _

_Alfred scowled and slapped his fingers, making him stop. Matthew then bit his lip and chewed it a little. Their phones beeped to signal the time and they both looked over to the bar as the door opened and Francis and Arthur came inside. They smiled when they saw their lovers and Matthew and Alfred hurried over. _

_But when they went to hug their lovers, the older men looked at each other and gasped. _

"_So, you're _monpetit_ Mathieu's papa?"Francis asked, venom in his voice. _

"_And you're the frog that is Alfred's father?" Arthur growled. _

"_Step-father, actually." Francis sniffed, kissing Matthew's hair. _

_Arthur scowled and the two parents were pulled over to the table; Francis sitting with Matthew and Alfred with Arthur. The two dads glared at one another, their arms around their lover's shoulders. There was silence between them for a moment and Alfred spoke up first. _

"_Look, you two." Alfred said, starting the whole thing off. "We all know that this is slightly weird?" _

"_Slightly weird?" Francis asked. "I don't zink zat word can even cut it." _

_Matthew groaned and spoke cutting the argument that was starting to rile up. "Dad, Francis. There is a huge reason why we've called you here. To make these relationships work, we would like it for you two to help us get along." _

"Désolé, mon cher_. But I'm not making friends wiz 'im." _

"_You must be joking, boy. I'd rather drink poison." _

"_Go right ahead. Leave your son and lover all alone wiz me to care for zem seen as you don't." _

_Arthur scowled but Alfred cut in to stop the Brit from lashing out and get them kicked out of the bar. "Look, just listen will you and stop arguing? Instead of thinking about what you want; think about what we want." _

"_Al's right. Look, dad I want to be with Francis and Francis, Alfred wants to be with my dad." Matthew explained. "We just want you two to come to terms with this and accept that you could be seeing a whole lot more of each other from now on."_

"_What?" Arthur asked, aghast. _

"_You know," said Alfred, shrugging. "Double dates and stuff." _

"_A double date? There's no way—" _

"_Dad, please." _

_Arthur sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Well..." he said, looking at the man sitting across from him. "I suppose if that's what the boys want..." _

"_I guess we could become friends as such, for our _chers_' sakes, of course." Said Francis. _

"_Yeah, I suppose." _

_Arthur held out a hand, which Francis took and shook it. And then quickly let go. Matthew smiled at Alfred. "Shall we get drinks to celebrate?" _

"_Sounds good enough. You paying, Artie?" Alfred asked. _

_Arthur scowled. "What do you want Francis?" _

"_I'll some of ze best French wine. __Red wine _s'il vous plait_?" _

_Arthur sighed and took some money out to pay for the drinks. Francis leaned over and whispered to Matthew. "I like my wine just how I like my boys. Sweet and eighteen years old." _

_Matthew, who had been sipping his drink, began to cough and splutter. Francis rubbed his back, easing his coughing down. Arthur came back over as Matthew's coughing fit ceased. _

"_What's the matter, Mattie? Frog in your throat?" He asked, scowling at the Frenchman, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. _

"_How did you know what he was giving me last night?" he asked, a smirk hidden in his question. _

_Arthur glared at the Frenchman as Matthew and Alfred cringed and sipped their drinks, quietly. _

After the serious talk, they went out on dates or double dates, a few times - which was rather uncomfortable for the dads.

Alfred and Matthew soon became good friends – even though the American still annoyed the Canadian sometimes. Matthew joined Alfred's band and, a year later, they were asked by a record producer, who had been sitting in the bar of Soho's Joint, to sell an album, after they left school. Francis and Arthur were happy for the boys and often went with them as the boys' groupies on the tours and got to have sex with them, much to Kiku and Mathias' annoyance. But after three years of being number one for weeks, the band had split up as Mathias had gotten into an accident and became paralysed and Kiku had to go back to Japan and be with his family.

The lovers were upset by this as were the fans and told them during a panel that they didn't want to replace any of their band mates, as they thought it would be a start to ruining the friendship.

The families were happy after retiring from the music business and got married, but kept that quiet. Alfred had kept his parent's surnames before Francis became part of the family and Matthew had kept his mother's maiden name, the dads' planned on marrying their lovers. True, it was a little incest but they didn't care. They loved their 'sugar daddies' and their 'sugar daddies' loved their young lovers.

But even though, their husbands were younger they still often told their children the same thing that their parents told them when they were young.

"Don't talk to strangers!"

* * *

**A/N: **

**My God! This is the longest chapter I've wrote for this story or any other! Wow! I hope you loved this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it. For those of you who kind of recognise this or not, this was inspired by the Don't Talk to Strangers AMV by Kelsx13. Thanks for the inspiration honey :) I hope you loved the USUK and the Franada. I know I did *wink wink nudge nudge*...**

**By the way, I have nothing against the French. I love their language, culture and cuisine, but my French is a little **_**merde**_**, shall we say. And this is all coming from British chick FYI. France is my most favourite character from Hetalia along with Canada. In my mind they're just fighting for first place but really they're just having good old fashioned smexy time! ;) Next up is PruAus**

**Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P. **

**Xxx **

**Translations:**

D'accord – okay

Merci, mon cher – thank you, my dear

Bonjour – hello

Mon petit – my little one

Bein - good

Et tu – and you

Bien sûr – of course

Je t'aime – I love you

mon fils – my son

pardonnez-moi – forgive me

mon amour – my love

Au revoir – goodbye


	8. All I Ever Wanted

All I Ever Wanted - Basshunter – PruAus

Music drifted through the hallway of Austria's home. It was beautiful. A piece of work that had taken Austria two days to compose. In complete silence. No one to bother him or make him lose focus. He was all alone and he hoped it would stay like this forever.

As he began to play further into the piece, he heard the front door opening and a loud obnoxious voice called out.

"HEY, AUSTRIA! Vhere are you, specs?"

Austria hit a wrong note and slammed his fist into the keys, making a horrible sound. Trust that idiot to come in and interrupt his work! He turned and yelled back.

"In here!"

Suddenly, the door opened to the study and Prussia entered. He was grinning and laughing like a buffoon.

"Hey, Austria. Vhat ya doing?"

"I was having a peaceful day until you came along." Austria grumbled and flicked back the pages of his new music and began to play again.

Prussia walked around to the side of the piano and watched the Austrian play, a smirk on his face. He then lifted himself on top of the piano. He crossed his legs, rested his elbows on his legs and his head in his hands, gazing at the Austrian. Austria stopped playing and looked at the albino, furiously.

"Do you mind not sitting on top of my piano, please?"

"Mmmm, I zought you liked it vhen I sat myself on your 'piano'?"

Austria blushed and continued playing his music. Prussia then shifted from his sitting position and lay down on the piano and stared hawk-like at his lover. Austria continued playing until Prussia reached down and ran his index finger along the keys, putting off Austria.

"Do you mind?"

"_Nein_." Prussia pulled him closer until his face was closer to Austria's.

Prussia grinned again and kissed Austria on the lips. Austria's fingers twitched and a tuneless music squeaked out. His ears twitched at the horrible sound. Prussia sniggered and pulled the Austrian out of his seat and top of the piano.

"Vhat do you zink you're doing?" Austria yelped, after he drew back from the kiss. "I just cleaned zis zing zis morning."

"Don't care." The former nation purred. He leaned down and pulled the stubborn nation in for another kiss. Austria tried to pull away but soon gave in as the albino trailed his tongue lovingly across his lips. Austria opened up and felt Prussia's tongue dive into the warm crevice. Austria mewled, only to be muffled by Prussia's lips.

Prussia drew away and grinned. "Time to get zese clothes off you!"

Austria gaped and tried to squirm away but Prussia was having none of it. He pinned the stubborn aristocrat down, with one hand and with his free hand he undid the buttons on Austria's clothes. Soon Austria was only down to his boxers and was quite hard.

"So delicious, _mein liebling_."

Austria went red and tried to get away to Prussia was too strong. Just like went he had taken his vital regions...and that hurt! Of course, Prussia had been different to Spain and France, of whom he had been married to for quite some time. Then he had married Hungary but Austria soon grew to love someone else. And that person was sitting on him teasing his body, to no end.

"P-Prussia! Please...s-s-stop!"

"_Nein_, I'm just getting started."

Austria watched, apprehensively as Prussia crawled down his body and licked the clothed bulge. The aristocrat groaned wantonly and wriggled on the piano.

Prussia grinned and reached in his boxers and pulled out Austria's erection. Prussia stared at it, greedily and dived in for a taste. Austria cried out and his hands clawed into his lover's silver hair. "Prussia, you fool!"

Prussia said nothing but chuckled. It sent vibrations down the throbbing organ in his mouth, setting off Austria again. Prussia moved so that he was slightly kneeling in front of the musician and unfastened his pants to let something hard of his free. Prussia then let go of Austria's cock with a soft _pop_!

Austria watched as Prussia grabbed his legs and shifted the Austrian so that his rear hung at Prussia's eye level. The albino growled and poked his tongue against Austria's entrance.

"Ah~ not there! P-Prussia, not there, please."

Prussia ignored him and soon set back to work on prepping on lover's hole.

"Nnngh! Ah ha!"

Prussia soon lightly dropped his lover's into his lap and positioned himself.

"Ready?"

Austria nodded and wrapped his arms around Prussia's neck. Prussia pushed himself inside. Austria moaned and gripped the Prussian tightly as Prussia filled him up.

"_Gott_, Austria. You're so~ tight! It's like you're a virgin again."

Austria growled but it soon quickly turned into a groan as Prussia moved slowly inside him. His head lolled back as the pleasure washed over his body. Prussia's pace began to quicken a little, making the soft sounds of mewling escape Austria.

"Vhy are you doing zis to me?"

"Cause you like it so much. I know you prefer me zen Hungary or my best pals."

Prussia stopped. Austria looked at him.

"Vhy did you marry zem?"

"I had to. Zey made zings razer difficult for us by svitching sides viz England."

"_Ja_, zey did. But I just didn't see vhy you chose me! Vhen you chose _zem_ after vhat happened. After ze wars you faced wiz zem?"

"Blame my boss. Tell me how is old man Fritz finding zis? I bet he vould be turning in his grave to find zat you are no longer a nation?"

Prussia scowled. He pulled out of Austria and shoved him so far back that he fell off the piano and fell onto the carpet. Austria cried out and slowly curled himself into a ball. Prussia gasped and vaulted on to the carpet beside his lover.

"Austria! Oh, _Gott_, Austria. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

Austria winced. He moved so that he was near Prussia's body warmth.

"_Leibling_? Are you okay? I'm so sorry. It vasn't very awesome of ze awesome me."

"It's all right, dear. I know how you get. I've alvays known you vere in love viz me."

Prussia smiled and nibbled at the pale skin in front of him. Austria groaned against his lover's ministrations and leaned into his lover's warm body. Prussia smiled and purred.

"Come on zen, _mein_ _leibling_. Play your awesome music for ze awesome me!"

"All right. But you'll behave zis time!"

"Ya have _mein_ vord, sugar!"

Austria rolled his eyes and slowly sat up on the piano stool and soon began to play the music he had composed. Prussia crawled over to his little Austrian and rested his head on his lap. Listening to the beautiful music that was pouring into the room. Once Austria was finished, he looked down at the albino, expecting him to make a very sarcastic remark. Like he usually did. _  
_

"Vell?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Prussia smiled and crawled up onto the aristocrat's lap and kissed. "It was awesomely beautiful, my princess!"

"Zere's no such word as 'awesomely'!"

"Sure zere is. Ask za guy zat wrote za dictionary."

Austria rolled his eyes. How he got hold of this guy he never knew! But he loved Prussia none the less.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hello, peeps! *shot by Prussia* :P **

**Ahem! Sorry it's taken so long to update, Christmas is very busy time of the year, folks. So please forgive me! Sorry that is short but I wanted this chapter finished for my next chapter which will be up in a few days or so...well it'll be up when it's finished. But it might be up before or on New Year's Day! Hopefully...**

**Hope you enjoyed this! Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P.**

**Xxxx**

**Translations: **

Nein – no

Mein liebling – my love

Gott - God

Ja – yes


	9. All I Want for Christmas Is You

All I Want For Christmas Is You – Mariah Carey – Franada, Spamano, USUK, GerIta, PruAus

Christmas was coming!

That was the only thing that was going through America's mind. Christmas was coming and he was planning on having the biggest party that was going to be a hell of a lot better than last year. He was going to invite so many countries and have a rock ass party that would last all night long.

America sat at this computer composing the design of the invitations as England came into the room. He leaned over America's shoulder and looked at the screen.

"You're making the invitations already? It's been early don't you think? People might already have plans this Christmas."

"Oh, come on! There hasn't been a single Christmas party I've hosted that absolutely nobody came to."

"Except Russia."

"Yeah, apart from creepy Russia. Except for this year, China wants him here."

"Why does China want him here?"

"They're going out, remember. And trust me; I don't want to face a Chinese mafia..."

England scoffed. He scanned the invitation and leaned over to correct a few small things that America had the audacity to spell wrong.

"There! That's better. So, have you made a list of who you want to invite?"

"Yeah, got it right here, man."

America held up a big sheet of paper with a long list of names that seemed to take up both sides of the pages. England took the list and scanned it.

"What? You invited France? Why, would do that?"

"What? Its good thing to bring France along, he can drink all of the wine that's left over. And besides he can keep my brother company."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah. You remember Canada, right?"

"Oh, Canada. Yes, of course I do."

For second, England had completely forgotten about Canada, until his memory was jogged back into place.

"Well, also long as France stays far away from me he can stay and only stay with Canada at all times...wait, you invited Germany?"

"Sure why not? I also invited Prussia to come too. Most of the Axis invited as I thought it would be best just to forget about the war and have fun for once."

England stared at his lover. "If you're so sure.

"Of course, I'm sure, babe. You want Sealand to be here too?"

"Yes, there's no way I'm leaving my son on his own now."

"Sure thing, bro. I'll add him to the list." _  
_

England gave his lover back the list and hugged him close. He inhaled his lover's scent and purred in his ear.

"America, love. I need you."

America chuckled. "I need you to, babe."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah...I need you to go and hand these out as soon as they're done!"

England blinked. He snarled and walked away, grumbling to himself.

* * *

Two days later, America's home was starting to fill with nations. England stood by the buffet table, gulping down the punch as though it was water. America had wandered off to talk on the phone with his boss and was also greeting guests. He had left England all alone...or at least he thought he was alone.

"_Bonjour_, England~"

England scowled and turned to see France, pouring himself a glass of punch.

"What do you want?" England growled.

France chuckled. "Honhonohon~ Oh, England. I just to say 'ello and wish a merry Christmas."

"Yes, well. Thank you."

"Not all, _mon ami_. Now, _excuse moi_, but I must find Canada. 'e's so adorable!"

"Well, just stay away from me, all right, frog!"

"_Mon ami_. I 'ave every intention to stay away from you and zose eyebrows and stay wiz _mon petit _Canada."

France smiled and walked away. England growled and went off to find America.

"Mum!"

England looked to his left to see Sealand hurrying over to him.

"Hello, poppet." England said, picking up the young micro-nation in his arms and holding him close. "Did you get here safely?"

"Yes, mummy. Latvia gave me a lift here!"

England looked over at Latvia was who nervously looking around the room. Probably trying to hide from Russia.

"Well, you stick with Latvia until this party finishes. Where's America?"

"Dad's still in the hall, greeting people!"

"Right, thank you, love." England put his son down and headed off to find the American.

* * *

France soon found Canada beside the fireplace, feeding his little polar bear the fish that America had poached.

"_Bonjour, mon cher_."

Canada looked up and smiled, a small blush showing. "_Bonjour_, France. How are you?"

"I'm good zank you. All ze better for seeing you, _mon cher_."

Canada smiled nervously and continued to feed Kumajirou. France sipped his punch and watched the beautiful Canadian. France wanted nothing more than to gather up the young nation in his arms and kiss him. It wasn't his usual hunger for sex he was after; he was now determined to find someone that would be there for him in the future. And who better that been the only nation that had been there for him in times of struggle besides his two best friends: but his former charge, Canada. _  
_

France put his glass on the coffee table and slowly moved closer to the Canadian. Canada stiffened a bit and looked over towards France, nervously. The country of love smiled and leaned close towards him. Canada's breath suddenly became hitched. Their lips were just about to touch when...

"Franny! Vhere are you?"

France groaned at the horrible nickname and looked over to see Prussia, stumbling over to them. Spain, who was completely sober, tottered over to them.

"Heeeey~ Birdie!" Prussia slurred as he sat down on the couch where France had sat moments before. He slammed both his legs down the table making France's punch clatter, spilling the juice all over the cloth.

"England's going 'ave your entrails and vital regions destroyed and 'ung up for zat." France said, softly in case England passed by and over heard them.

"Vould you relax, Frankie?" Prussia groaned. "It's America's home _und_ I'm sure ze ozer parties have been messier zan zis." He gestured the dark pink stain.

"You're right, Prussia." Said Canada, who had just finished feeding Kumajirou. Prussia grinned and pulled a smug look over at the Frenchman, who scowled. "But...England lives here as well as America lives in Britain."

"_Excatement, mon ami_. So, I suggest you clean zat up before he finds out."

Prussia grumbled and took the cloth from the table. Spain snickered.

"If you both don't mind, I'm going find my little Romano."

"Have fun, Spain." France cooed.

Spain blushed, knowing his meaning and hurried. France chuckled and looked at Canada. He was looking down at his bear, a light blush on his cheeks. France hummed and shuffled a little closer. Canada smiled at him. France smiled back and leaned in to brush his lips against the Canadian's. Canada whimpered from the lost of contact.

"Would you like some more, _mon cher_?"

"..._Oui_, France."

France smiled and leaned in for another mind blowing kiss!

* * *

Germany looked over the bubbly Italian as he swung both Spain and Romano around in a little drunken stupor. A rare smile came up on the German's face. It comforted the German to know that the Italian was happy. When the Mediterranean countries were through, Italy stumbled back over to Germany as Spain pulled Romano further across the dance floor.

"_Ciao_ Germany~!" Italy said, a little slur starting in his words.

"_Hallo_, Italy!" Germany said.

Italy ve'd happily and soon tripped over his feet. Germany, being quick on his feet, managed to catch Italy just in time. Italy steadied himself and blushed as he noticed that he was tightly embraced in the nation's arms.

"H-hey..."

Germany smiled and straightened up the Italian in his arms. They both stared at each other, Germany's arms around his waist and Italy's arms around Germany's shoulders. _  
_

A pink tinge was creeping up on their cheeks. Italy reached up and brushed his soft finger tips across Germany's cheek. It sent shivers up the blonde's spine. Germany leaned in and pressed a soft chaste kiss to the Italian's lips. Italy whimpered and leaned back in to kiss the German. The moment was soon cut off when something hard hit Germany on the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Stay away from my _fratello_, you damn potato eater!" Romano snapped, trying to get to him but was being held back by Spain.

"_Mi tomate_, please stop it."

"Get off me, tomato bastard!"

"Ve~. _Fratello_?"

"Spain, let go of me."

Germany rolled his eyes. This was going to be a very, very long night.

* * *

China stood outside trying to relive his headache from the chaos of nations inside. Russia had left him to go and find drinks and China told him he would be outside for fresh air. China took a deep breath and leaned his head against the cool bricks of America's house. He wished he could back the olden days where he wasn't bothered by other nations and he travelled the world to bring back treasures to his boss.

It had been easy back then for him. He had been a young man back and now he was just old and now...

"China?"

China turned to look at the taller Russian standing next to him with a two glasses in his hands.

"You were quick!"

"Well, it wasn't too far from the buffet table. Punch?"

"America? Yes, please."

Russia chuckled. China sipped the weird looking drink and immediately spat it back out.

"Yuck! This is American alcohol? I thought England's was bad enough."

Russia stood there, a slightly creepy smile on his face. China shook his head. "I'll never understand how you can stay so calm under any situation."

As always, Russia didn't say much. He just smiled and placed a small kiss on the Chinese man's head. China blushed a little and leaned in, burying his face into Russia's coat. He felt the Russian move and say: "It's almost time for America's fireworks to go off."

"Must we watch?" China moaned, placing his drink on old bird bath.

"Well...we could go somewhere else. America's home has thousands of rooms."

China went red. "I don't think we should."

"Why not? He's messed around with us far too many times."

China sighed. "All right...but if we get caught..."

"We won't assure you, my little China."

China gripped Russia's hand and took him back inside and through the gaggle of nations and up the stairs.

* * *

A very drunk Prussia found Austria sitting in a bedroom alone, with only a cup of tea to keep him company.

"All right, specs?" Prussia slurred.

Austria looked up and frowned at the former nation. "Vhat do you vant?"

"Vas looking for you? Vondering if you had turned up or not. Vhere's Hungary?"

"Trying her best to kill Romania. Turkey probably set him up."

"Ah~."

Prussia stumbled slightly over to him and sat down, looking out at the dark street and sky.

"Vhat you doing here zen?" Prussia asked, his crimson eyes trying to focus on the Austrian.

"Got stick of everyone. So came up here for some peace and quiet...or least I thought I had."

Prussia sniggered and took a large gulp of beer from his glass. Austria raised his eyebrows.

"How many of them have you had?"

"A few." Prussia said.

"How many is a few?"

"About five."

Austria sighed and held out his drink. "I think you should have some. Otherwise you'll have a splitting hangover."

"Pfffft! I'm too awesome to get a hangover!" he said, before chugging down his last dregs of beer.

Austria rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea.

"Ya know some zing, Austria?"

"_Vas_?"

"I've...I've never gave you an apology...have I?"

Austria looked at Prussia, over the rim of his teacup. "An apology...for vhat exactly?"

"For – hic – stealing your vital regions, of course."

Austria's eyes widened at what came out of Prussia's mouth. "S-s-say that again." _  
_

"I said, I never gave ya an apology for stealing your vital regions all those years ago, did I?"

Austria stared. "_Nein_, I guess you didn't."

"Vell, Austria...I'm sorry about stealing zem. I'd give you them back but since _mein_ land has merged wiz Germany, you have to go zrough him."

"It's fine. I've managed so long wiz them. It's not like zey have any importance."

"Zey must have done to Old Fritz." Prussia cackled.

Austria grumbled and placed his tea on the window sill. Prussia moved a little closer towards the nation and leaned to kiss him. But darkness covered his eyes and a slur of: "I love you, Austria~."

And he collapsed on top of the musician and snored loudly. Austria groaned. He sighed, knowing he wasn't going anywhere for a while. He looked down the sleepy former nation that was snoring and drooling on his pants.

"_Ich liebe dich_, Prussia. _Ich liebe dich_."

* * *

"Come on, guys." America shouted over all the noise, as he walked over to England. "Fireworks will be starting soon."

England was sat in a corner, with Latvia and Sealand on his lap. Both asleep. England was mumbling a quiet lullaby to their ears.

"Iggy, you comin', bro."

"I would, America. But I'm stuck and don't call me that bloody name."

"You didn't complain about that last night!"

A few jeers and France's usual laugh sounded in the room, making his ears red.

"For god's sake, America. Keep your voice down." The Brit growled.

America chuckled and lifted the two young nations into his arms and carried them over to an empty armchair. Once, they were nestled in, they snuggled up to each other and carried on sleeping. England smiled and soon they all headed outside as America called his boss for the all clear.

Soon, the nations were greeted with a fantastic display of fireworks, that only America and England knew the price of. _  
_

England gazed at them, fondly and looked around at the nations. France and Canada were snuggled under a fake fur blanket, smiling at each other and then gazing back at the fireworks. Germany was holding a slightly sleepy and drunk Italy up right so that he could see the display. Romano was fighting Spain off so that he could watch the fireworks without his damned wandering hands. Russia, China, Prussia and Austria were nowhere in sight.

They were missing out on all the fun. England gazed at the fireworks with a smile on his face. America wrapped his arms around England and placed a kiss on his cheek. England blushed but leaned into his lover's embrace, no longer feeling warm from the cold air. As the final firework went off, snow began fall and then nations whooped in celebration and danced like the idiots they were. Well most of them anyway.

America nodded to someone and slow ballet music began playing. He pulled England around to face him. They both moved into a slow dance and were soon joined by other couples to dance in the snow. The snow never stopped. America leaned in and kissed England.

"Merry Christmas, Iggy." He whispered.

"Merry Christmas, America."

* * *

Spain twirled Romano around, making him a little dizzy.

"Will you stop making spinning me around, you tomato twat?" he growled.

"Oh, Romano. Come on, have some fun for once, _por favor_?"

"No!"

"Romano~. Please for me."

Romano looked up at Spain's saddened face. His hard heart softened a little at the big kitty eyes he was giving the Italian. He sighed and leaned into the Spaniard and mumbled something.

"What was that, Roma~?"

Romano growled. "I said 'Merry Christmas'. Bastard."

"Aww, Romano. You're so cute. _Feliz Navidad_!"

Romano grumbled curses again and buried his face into the Spaniard's shirt.

* * *

France snuggled up to Canada and pressed a small kiss to his neck. Canada blushed and tried to squirm away but France held him firmly and trailed butterfly kisses down his neck. Canada whimpered and felt himself leaning into the ministrations.

"France..." he breathed.

"Oh, _mon cher...Joyeux Noël_."

"Merry Christmas_, mon cher_."

France spun his lover until they came over to the French windows. "Shall we?"

Canada who completely drunk on France, just simply nodded and they headed up the stairs to find a spare unused room.

* * *

Austria lay Prussia down on the bed and pulled the covers over him. He lay down beside him and stroked the albino's messy silver hair. It had taken him a while to drag the heavy Prussian over to the bed and settle him in. He smiled as he watched the Prussian sleep, his eyes flickering as he dreamt of...god knows what!

The Austrian however was a little shell shocked about what the Prussian had said before passing out on him. He...had apologized. That was something that the Austrian had never heard or even witnessed the narcissistic former nation do. But for something that had happened so long ago and Austria had never forgiven him for. But now...Austria didn't know what to think. Maybe the Prussian was too drunk to know exactly what he was saying. Maybe it was just a mistake but Austria didn't want to believe it. It had really touched his heart to hear the albino say those words. He leaned down and kissed the silvery locks.

"Merry Christmas, Prussia. I'm sorry for your abolishment. You deserve to be the strong nation like you were all them years ago. _Ich liebe dich_!"

Austria snuggled into him as the snow continued to fall. Austria had to admit...it was his best Christmas yet.

* * *

Germany brushed the snow out the sleepy and veeing Italian's hair, trying to be careful of the curl. Italy shifted in his sleep and snuggled into Germany's chest, muttering something in Italian. Germany smiled. He saw the back door open and Spain was carrying a drunk and tired Romano in his arms. He smiled at the German, who smiled back and headed off somewhere else in the house.

Once the snow was out of his hair, Germany pulled him into his arms and warmed him up. He was glad that this Christmas had gone well for himself. It was one of the best Christmas' he ever had. He would have to thank America for inviting him tonight.

* * *

England sighed and huddled closer to his lover. He didn't want this night to end. He loved every moment that went by. He wanted to stay like this for ever; dancing in America's back-garden, as the snow fell and holding America close.

All he wanted for Christmas was America and another Christmas, just like this one.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hello, everyone! I know this is a day late, but it's been so long to write and it may seem a bit rushed. I don't care, it's finished, done! Yay! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a happy new year! **

**Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P. **

**Xxxx **

**Translations: **

Bonjour – hello

mon ami – my friend

excuse moi – excuse me

mon petit – my little

mon cher – my dear

Excatement – exactly

Oui – yes

Ciao - Hello

Mi tomate – my tomato

Fratello – brother

Vas – what

Nein – no

Ich liebe dich – I love you

por favour – please

Feliz Navidad – Merry Christmas

Joyeux Noël – Merry Christmas


	10. Rumour Has It

Rumor Has It – Adele – Implied USUK, UKCan, Eventual Franada_  
_

They had once been four separate people who were just looking for love and someone to be and to care for. They had been all alone, on separate lands, scared and alone. Until news of the New World came to Europe. England and France sailed along to it; they both found America along with Finland and Sweden and fought each other constantly for America's love. But France lost and left the land to go further north and came across and beautiful snowy land that people had harshly named a waste land. France soon came across a small frozen boy holding a cub, tightly to his chest. France knew from first glance that he was the boy he had to raise and love.

The small boy, Canada, was a little nervous to meet France and soon accepted him as his big brother. France soon introduced his little brother to America and England and soon the four became a little family.

But after many years later, England was going through his Empire phase and was becoming greedy and wanting more power and soon wanted Canada as his own. France could not allow it and protected his little brother for several years, until France was brought down by England and was put under a difficult position. Lose all of his colonies to England and step off the land at all time or pay the price. France, knowing there was nothing he could do, handing over his colonies to England and was left. His pride bruised and his heart broken. Canada, who had loved France (more than the rest) tried to get France to come back. But as much as France wanted to, France had no choice but to turn his back on his colonies and leave Canada under the care of the British Empire.

After several hours of crying, Canada decided to rebel against England and live outside in the wilderness with his remaining tribes that were alive. England and his few pirate fellows would hunt down Canada and drag the screaming boy back home to where he was sent into his room without anything to eat. This happened on several occasions and England would often scold his other colonies for encouraging Canada's behaviour.

After receiving too many scolds, the colonies took pity on Canada and a few of them along with America took off down to the kitchens and steal food for Canada and took it up to his room and snuck it in for Canada. Canada was soon released and secretly thanked his new brothers and sisters.

After several years of being in England's care, some colonies grew up and started to become a bit rebellious, starting with America, who began to dump tea in the harbour. Soon, news came to the other colonies that America was now at war with his guardian and was now allied with France. Canada and his siblings had no choice but to fight with England. After a long a bloody battle, America won and soon other countries began to follow America's footsteps ad one by one England lost his colonies and his house was nearly empty. Only a few colonies remained including Canada. When Canada finally declared independence, England didn't even put up a fight with him and let him go.

Now, however, America was starting trouble again but this time with something new...

* * *

Canada came home and was greeted with Kumajirou's usual greeting of: "I'm hungry. Feed me!"

"Kuma, I fed you at least two hours ago. You still can't be hungry, already?"

Kumajirou titled his head at the tall nation. "Who?"

"I'm Canada. I must have told you that at least a thousand times!" he sighed and walked off into the kitchen in order to feed himself and his bear. He was about to open a packet pancake mixture when the phone rang. Canada sighed and went over to the phone as Kumajirou wandered off somewhere else.

"Hello?" Canada asked.

"Hello, Canada."

"Oh, hi, England." Canada said, a smile starting to creep up.

"Hello, lad. Just to let you know, I won't be able to make it tonight as I have plans with America. His boss is working on something really important and needs my assistance. I hope you can understand."

Canada's heart fell at these words. His boyfriend of three years, the gentlemanly England, was dumping him on their ninth date. Third date as the other dates, England cancelled due to being with America all the time. It seemed as though, England was now starting to care for his former charge again after what happened a few hundred years ago.

"Canada. Are you there?"

"Yes, I am. England. It's okay...I...kinda had plans myself."

"Oh, right. I see. Well, I'll see you tomorrow for drinks then. Sounds good."

"Sure. Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Fantastic! Love you, poppet."

"Love you too, England. Bye."

"Bye."

Canada hung up with phone and bit his lip. He didn't understand of what was so important between England and America enough for England to cancel their date yet again. Surely, the business between his own brother and his boyfriend could be dealt with on a different day.

But no! England had to cancel and Canada would try once again to grab England back into his arms. Well, if he couldn't have that chance then he would surely pass it on to someone else. And Canada knew the exact nation to do that. Canada picked up the phone and dialled the familiar number he knew so well. After a few rings, a voice called through the ear piece.

"_Bonjour_~. France speaking."

"France? It's me, Canada."

"Canada! _Mon cherie_. 'Ow are you keeping? It's been a while since I last saw you."

"I've been pretty good, thank you, France. But..."

"But? _Mon cher_, what is ze matter?"

"Well...it's England. He cancelled yet another date on me."

"What? Why?"

"Some important business with America." _  
_

"Oh, _mon cherie_. I...I don't what to say."

"What d'you mean, France?"

"You 'aven't 'eard?"

"Heard what? France, tell me!"

"Well...I'm only telling you zis because we've always known each ozer and you always deserve ze truth...even if it 'urts."

"France, you're really scaring me." Canada said, almost teary.

France sighed. "I...I've 'eard some rumours zat England...is secretly dating America. He has been for some now...apparently."

Canada's eyes widened. No. No, it couldn't be true. England would have done that to him. They had been through so much together they had fought so many wars together and comforted each other through hard times. But France had also been there for him as well for as longer as what England had. France had first been against his former charge dating England but soon came to grips with it and accepted it with full support. Of course, France still didn't trust England. But now, with this news. This shocking news.

"Non! You're lying, France." Canada whimpered.

"Canada, I wish I was. I mean I've never ze two togezer myself but I'm only saying what I've 'eard. I just wanted to know."

"No. England wouldn't do that to me."

There was silence on the other end. France sighed and spoke again. "Canada, do you want me to come and see you? You could really do wiz ze company."

"_Oui_..._oui_..._oui_."

"_D'accord_. I'll see you soon. Make sure you 'ave some strong coffee and some zing wiz lots of sugar in to boost your moral up."

"Okay, France. I'll see you soon." And with that Canada hung up the phone, tears in his eyes.

* * *

Still haunted with image of England with America, Canada was now sat with France, in his arms and softly crying into his chest. France was whispering soft words of French in his ear.

"Come on, _cher_. Stop wasting your tears over him. It might not be true. You never know. As much as I 'ate England, I 'ave fully supported you. I've always been zere for you."

"I know, France. I know but...why do this to me?"

"I don't know, _mon cher_. If I'm...'onest wiz you, I don't zink you should be wiz him anymore. If he's going to treat you zis way, zen you should just let him go."

"If he is really with my brother." Canada sighed and sat up, wiping away his tears. "I knew something like this would happen soon. He's always the favourite. I'm always forgotten or mistaken for him. that's probably why England's with me...cause I remind him so much of America. That Yankee bastard!"

"_Mon cher_, don't say zings like zat. I took you in and I've always remembered you. I fought a war for seven years just to keep you safe. I gave you up to keep you safe. I did zat all for you. I fought alongside America to protect you from England's anger. Ozer wise you would 'ave been broken. Ze days I spent apart from you I zought about you zen any ozer colony I've raised. You 'ave been ze best zing zat as ever 'appened to me."

Canada looked at France. The older nation had tears in his eyes. He had that same expression his face that he had worn when he had handed over Canada to England. Defeat.

Canada leaned forward and hugged this former guardian. France made a noise with a hint of a smile in it and embraced the young nation. He felt a kiss being placed on his head and a soft nuzzle in his hair. Canada giggled and drew back from the hug. France brushed his hair from his face and wiped away a tear.

"Now, _cherie_. All you need to do is confront England about zis. If it's true, zen let 'im go and 'e can whine and beg as much as 'e wants, you are not going to put up wiz zat any longer. But if it's not true, zen you forget zis every 'appened and we find ze culprits who came up wiz zis rumour. Now, come on let's get you freshened up and find England."

* * *

A few hours later, Canada was standing outside America's home and trying to calm himself. He was slightly shaking, but was determined to question England whether they were in a meeting or making love right then and there or sucking each other's pathetic little faces off.

Canada exhaled a long slow breath and stepped inside his brother's home. He walked past the security and up the stairs and hurried off to find his brother and lover. He hurried down the corridor towards the room where America usually had his meetings. Canada soon reached the door and heard voices. There was silence and then the sound of kissing. Canada's heart seemed to tighten.

He gripped the door handle and opened the door slightly trying to be quiet. He peeked inside and found America straddling England and kissing neck. England's head was thrown back and was muttering some in Celtic. Canada's heart shattered and slammed the door and stormed off out of his brother's home.

He dove into his car and ordered his chauffeur to take him back home. The driver did as he was told and Canada dialled France's number.

* * *

France looked up and hurried out into the hall as Canada stormed in tears. Canada ran into the kitchen and sat down at the table. France followed him and knelt down beside him.

"So, it was true then?"

Canada nodded, trying to stem the tears. France took hold of his free hand and squeezed gently.

"_Mon cher_, don't bozer wiz yourself on 'im. 'E's not good enough to waste tears over. You don't deserve 'im."

Canada smiled slightly and hugged his former carer. France rubbed his back and hummed sweetly in his ear. Canada drew back slightly and did something that he would never have thought to do. He leaned in and kissed France. France seemed slightly hesitant at first but soon gave in and kissed back. Canada dove a little further into the kiss. It felt perfect as thought they were meant for one another. France leaned up and pulled the Canadian close. Canada broke the kiss, France whimpered slightly.

"How long...have you wanted to do that?" Canada asked.

"Since America's independence." France said, a little breathless.

"Good enough for me." Canada said.

France laughed and hugged the young nation close. "Oh, _mon petit_. 'Ow long I've waited for zis moment. Just to be wiz you. Spain and Prussia told to tell you before England got there first. I was too late." _  
_

"Well...now you have your chance. Don't waste it, _cherie_."

France closed his eyes and let a blissful sigh. "I promise not to, _mon amour_."

"Thank you."

France smiled. "So, when are you going to break ze news?"

"Let's give it some time. I'm sure if England and my own brother can keep this secret from me, why can't we?"

"Of course, _cherie_. Playing by zeir own rules, is much more fun."

Canada giggled and kissed France on the nose.

* * *

For at least two weeks, France and Canada secretly met and Canada cancelled on everything England had planned with Canada. Canada didn't want to give the game away so easily. Secretly, the two of them met at each other's homes and went out on hidden dates. At World Meetings, Canada would greet England as a boyfriend and would sit next to him and not be suspicious at all. Occasionally, France and Canada shoot each other glances and winks and gave each other non-verbal conservations and hidden sniggers. England, however, was putting up at a great performance of hating America, but the Canadian could see the tension and fire in their eyes as they glared at each other.

At the end of the meeting, England would ask Canada to go out for a drink and Canada would decline and say he had a lot of paperwork to catch up on and would leave until England was gone and head home with France.

But of their third week of being together, Canada and France found out from a drunken Italy that England and America had somehow got into a fight and weren't speaking to each other. Canada and France didn't care. Soon, Canada got a harassing phone call from England, who sounded drunk and Canada had no choice but to go and see him. They said goodbye and headed off. For half the night, England kept Canada up by yelling drunken rants about and brought up rather sensitive subjects such as the tea harbour incident, the American Revolution and the war of 1812.

That topic made Canada rather red at the face as he had been the one who burned down the White house with England's help and also brought up the topic of him sleeping with America and dropped to the floor in a drunken heap, snoring his head off. Canada didn't even flinch at this. He sat there for a while staring into space.

Canada soon put the drunken England to bed and stayed with him, sending texts to France about England and missing him. After two hours of being in England's house, Canada left England's house and headed over to France's, where he slept like a log in France's arms.

In the morning, Canada headed back home with France and told him everything that England had said. France held him close and told him not to worry. Canada didn't and sent a text to England saying that he finished with him.

Several texts and calls from England and America were sent to Canada, but Canada ignored. It couldn't face this anymore. He just wanted to be with people that didn't treat him harshly and loved and remembered him. He went out with France to clubs with Spain, Prussia, Germany, the Italy Brothers and Hungary. At least they cared for him and made him feel like one of the family. He had a fantastic time with his new friends and showed his love for France after getting home. _  
_

After another night of partying way too much and a slightly hangover, Canada headed downstairs to make France a cup of strong coffee. As he placed at least two dessert spoonfuls of maple syrup in his coffee, he heard a knock on the door. Wondering who would be knocking at his door at some godly hour, he walked over to the front door and gaped at the person behind it.

"What do you want England?" Canada asked, exasperated.

"Canada, I only came here to apologize for last night and an explanation of why we're no longer together."

"I see." Canada said. "Well, you seemed to let a little something slip I've known for a while now."

When England stared blankly at Canada, Canada sighed. "You have been cheating on me with America, haven't you?"

England's eyes widened. "Oh, my goodness. I can't...Canada, I'm sorry. I never..."

"Don't be. I've always known you loved America more than me. Since his independence."

"Canada..."

"You never fought for me. You didn't even try you just gave up and let me go."

"Canada, I had been through so much then. My empire was crumbling, I had lost so much. I couldn't go through it all again."

"You don't have to make excuses England. I've always known and maybe also I wasn't meant for you."

"I don't understand you, Canada."

"England, please."

England sighed. "Yes, I did. But I don't know what I was thinking. I just..."

"You loved him, England. More than me."

"I know, but since we're not going out as was wondering if..."

Canada shook his head. "I'm sorry, England. I can't. It wouldn't be fair. Just go to America and act like rabbits if you must but don't cheat anymore. Promise?"

"I promise, Canada."

The two hugged one another and soon drew back.

"Well, I wish you luck, Canada."

"And you, England."

England smiled then faltered. "How did you find out, anyway?"

Canada bit his lip. "Well...let's just say a little birdie told me."

England stared at his ex-lover, confused. Canada smiled shyly and shrugged.

"Okay then. Well, I suppose I better call a taxi and see America. Maybe he'll have cooled off by now."

"Hopefully. Maybe he might have forgotten about it."

"Maybe."

There was a thud and a clatter. England looked inside and raised an eyebrow at Canada.

"Had a sleepover?"

"One would call it that, yes."

"Ah, I see. Fair enough. Well, I'll leave you to it. I'll see you at the next World meeting, if not sooner."

"Yes. Great. I'll see you, England and _bonne chance_!"

England smiled and left Canada's house and headed down the road to find a taxi. Canada closed the door and scowled at France who was standing behind him a towel on his head and no clothes on at all.

"You couldn't have made more noise?" the Canadian asked, sarcastically.

"Well, Kuma nearly sacred me and I went hip first into the railing and..." he pouted. "Now, it's sore."

Canada blushed red, knowing where France was going with this. Canada walked past him and headed into the kitchen. France skipped after him.

"So, what did fuzzy eyebrows want?"

"He just wanted to know why I had dumped him and to apologize to the other night. Told him I knew about him and America and I wanted nothing more to do with him." _  
_

"Bein." France purred and kissed Canada on the cheek, making him blush.

"W-w-what was that for?"

"Quoi? Can a lover not give his lover a kiss?"

"Well, they can. But it usually means they want something."

France smiled coyly. "Oh, really? Well, tell me!"

Canada blushed heavily and was soon overcome when France pressed a kiss to his lips. Canada went scarlet and slowly began to wrap his arms around the Frenchman's neck.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hello, yes I'm back and thankfully not dead. It's been hectic as I've had so much going on since after Christmas. Lately I've been feeling depressed, then my gran went to hospital and then my mum had a back injury and I've also had my performing arts starting back. **

**But I'm back on with this chapter to make up for it. Hopefully! This chapter feels somewhat darker to how I usually write these two favourite pairings of mine. Also I've made a little AMV of this on youtube. It was posted the other day and the link to my youtube channel should be on my profile. If not then ask me and I'll sent you the link. **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed this. Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P. **

**Xxxx **

Mon cher/cherie – my dear

Oui – yes

D'accord – okay

Bonjour – hello/ good day


	11. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Baby, It's Cold Outside – Tom Jones and Cerys Matthews –RoChu

China pulled back the curtain and saw that the weather was getting worse. Snow was falling hard and the layer of snow was mounting up to at least five inches. China bit his lip and began to wonder if he should tell Russia that he should leave now or...maybe stay the night.

"China?"

China yelped and spun round to see the taller nation, smiling his...slightly creepy smile. He was holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate for the pair of them. China smiled, nervously.

"_Nihao_, Russia. Umm...just admiring the weather."

_Admiring the weather? Nice move, dumbass!_ The older nation thought. But Russia was still smiling. "_Da_, it is. Snow is beautiful in this country. Do you think so, _da_?"

"I do. But I sometimes can't help if it's dangerous too. I mean there was that one time you fell from that plane and broke your back without a parachute."

"Well, I didn't die. I told you I know everything about snow." The taller nation said, handing China one of the mugs. China took it with a murmur of thanks. He pulled the curtain back again and gasped as the snow fall soon became a blizzard.

"It's getting really bad out there." Russia said, the smile vanishing. China sipped his hot chocolate and grimaced as he tasted something in it that wasn't just chocolate or milk. He didn't want to ask what it was. He wanted to leave his lover and his house in order to get home now and make sure everything was okay at his house.

"Well, Russia." China said, putting his drink down on the window sill. "As it's been lovely visiting you again, I better get going. I want to get home and sort everything out."

China smiled, kissed his lover on the cheek and walked off to get his coat and hat. But was stopped when a vice grip wrapped itself on his arm. China turned and saw a worried looking Russia, gripping onto his arm.

"But, China. You'll freeze to death out there. I can't go out." He said, panicking.

China blinked. He had never seen the Russian act like this before. It was quite rare that the Russian showed his worried side to everyone, he would like to scare a lot of countries in to becoming one with him except his creepy sister, Belarus. But China also knew that the violet eyed man was scared of someone called General Winter. China wasn't entirely sure who this General Winter was but...Russia was terrified of him. China's heart softened at the look the Russia was giving him. He could see Russia's bottom lip trembling slightly. China sighed, pulled the taller nation towards him and embraced him in his arms.

"Of course, I'll stay here, Russia. Who knows I could be out of here in a day or two?"

Russia blushed and bit his lip, as though trying to put what he was going to say next as pleasant as possible. "Well, judging by the weather now, it could be a week or two?"

China blanched. "What?"

"_Da_?"

"Did you just say a week or two?"

Russia's face suddenly broke into a nervous smile. "Well, it could be four or five. It all just depends on how heavy the snow falls?"

"But...but..."

"But what, China?" Russia asked, curiously, his head titling to the side.

China sighed and waved his hand to show Russia that he didn't want to say anymore.

"You...want to go, don't you?" the Russian asked, in almost childish voice.

Chian looked up startled. "What? No, no, no, no! I just...I just wanted to leave soon. I mean the weather's awful, aru."

"And you honestly think you can get a taxi in this weather? There's no traffic outside. It's too cold out. So, let's take off your jacket..."

"But, what about my boss? He's gonna get mad at me, he always does."

"Well, we'll call him in the morning. He'll understand."

"Well...okay, aru." China said, after a little while.

Russia smiled and hugged the shorter nation close. China 'oofed' as the Russian hugged him tightly, making a few bones in his body click. Russia nuzzled his nose into China's neck, inhaling his lovely scent. China got a sudden draft of the Russian's cologne. It was his favourite one. China loved this smell and had often bought Russia this one so that he could smell the familiar scent that Russia wore. Russia drew back and smiled down at his lover.

"Now, shall we head upstairs for a nightcap?" Russia asked.

"Okay, aru."

Russia set down his cup of hot chocolate with vodka on a coffee table and held out his hand to the Chinese man. China took it and was soon led up to Russia's bedroom.

* * *

China lay unclothed underneath the warm covers of Russia's bed, snuggled up by the sleeping Russian. He looked so adorable when he slept. It often melted China's heart to see him like this. To see a side that nobody would see, because they were all afraid of him. But they didn't know his past. Prussia was the one who had caused the bullying along with Mongolia, Denmark and some other countries. He soon stood up for himself and became such a strong nation. China had learned all of this from his big sister, Ukraine and had often spoken to the Baltic state, Lithuania, as they both knew him pretty well. China knew that the big nation was just misunderstood.

China moved closer and basked in the warm smell of his lover. He looked out of the window to see the snow falling heavily. His eyes became drowsy as he watched the snow fall from sky. The snowfall was getting bigger. It was an occurrence in Russia for this to happen and China was used to it as he visited Russia so often.

He supposed he could manage a week or two in his lover's company while they waited for the snow to go down. He would call his boss tomorrow and explain about his delay home. Russia shifted in his sleep and murmured something in Russian. China smiled and stroked his lover's white blonde locks and placed a kiss on his forehead.

* * *

The next morning, the snow had not died down. In fact it had just gone on all night. The snow was getting bigger and heavier by the moment. It was awful and Russia had watched, heartbroken, as he heard China's boss, yelling at him over the phone. China winced with every word. He sent an apologizing look towards the Russian which pulled his heartstrings. Russia smiled politely and shook his head, telling him it was nothing to worry to about. Although, Russia couldn't help but feel a little guilty on his part as the weather was an everyday occurrence for General Winter to get on his back. The ghost of the old general would often appear in the corner of Russia's eyes often a moment had then disappeared. People would often tell him it was just the shadows and the snowfall playing tricks on him. But they didn't know General Winter like he did. It often scares Russia out of his wits, because he knew what General Winter was capable of. Even his old enemy, Prussia had come face to face with the general at one period, though he hadn't been around along.

On China's third stay at his home, China told Russia he wanted to pop out of the house to get some groceries.

"Are you sure? It doesn't look safe out there." Russia said, cupping the nation's face in his hands.

"I'll be fine, aru. It's just snow and it can only go to the skin."

Russia sighed and watched as his lover shrugged into his coat, kissed him on the cheek and walked out of the house. Russia suddenly felt lonely, now. He could obviously call up his little Baltic's or Ukraine to come round. Then he suddenly remembered; Ukraine was with that tanned Turk at her home and the Baltic's were...elsewhere. He was indeed alone. He decided it would be best to sleep until China got back.

He sat down the couch and rested his head against the cushions. His eyes soon became drowsy and sleep soon engulfed him.

It was at least three hours when Russia woke to the sound of the door slamming shut. Russia blinked a few times. He sat up, clicking his neck and saw a frozen China standing in the living room by the door. Russia gaped.

"My little China, where have you been?"

"O-o-out." China stuttered, his teeth chattering together.

Russia stood up and dragged the nation over to the fire. He took the carrier bags and placed them on the sofa.

"How come you were gone for so long?"

"I...sort of got lost, aru."

Russia let a small laugh. "Lost?"

"Yes, lost. I...couldn't remember my way to the shops and back here."

"Well, you could have asked me to join you."

"Well, I thought I could manage by myself as I've been here so many times. I thought I could remember. When I'm with you I don't need to ask, I follow you around. Now, I feel like an idiot, aru."

Russia smiled sympathetically. "It's all right, China. It's not your fault. Let's get you warmed up, huh?"

"Aiyaa~." China murmured.

Soon, China was wrapped up in a nice and warm with a big fuzzy blanket, with a cup of hot chocolate between his freezing hands, next to Russia who was combing his large fingers through his hair. It was lulling the Asian to sleep. He placed his hot chocolate on the table and snuggled up to the big Russian. Russia sighed and hummed an old Russian song under his breath. Soon China was nodding off to sleep, again, feeling warmed up from the cold day he had experienced.

* * *

"So, did you and Russia get it on, da-zee?"

China sighed. It was at least three days after China had returned home and now he was sitting in the kitchen with a moody Hong Kong, a squealing Taiwan and that damned South Korea, asking him repeated questions about his week with Russia.

"Korea, aru. Why don't you keep your fat nose out of other people's business please?" the older nation snarled.

Hong Kong made a scoffing noise. China looked up at the younger nation.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I don't care whether you had sexed with that Russian fellow or not. But, I find it a little disgusting to be talking about it."

"I swear you get this from the damned British bastard!" China said. "You were perfectly fine, until he came along. He did the same thing to France if I'm not mistaken."

"He raised me better than you, old man."

"Hong Kong, stop it." Taiwan whined. "China did a fantastic job with you. England was only good at raising America and Canada. He had no business coming here and taking you away from him."

China sighed and took a gulp from his tea. He just wanted peace and quiet. Taiwan leaned in and whispered.

"So, did you and Russia...you know?"

"That's none of your business, neither." China snapped. Taiwan looked at him with those damned puppy eyes of hers. He sighed. "We did, yes."

South Korea whooped and danced in his chair and Taiwan squealed like a hysterical fangirl. China sighed and got up from his chair, taking his tea with him.

"How many times?" Korea called. China froze where he stood and glared at the Korean.

"You what?"

"How many times did you do it?" Korea repeated.

"You pervert!" China shot and he left the kitchen as Taiwan thumped and punched South Korea.

He didn't know why he bothered some times. He might as well have moved in with Russia during that week if he knew _this_ was going to happen. What had happened to privacy nowadays? During the good old days, when he was younger and great friends with the Italy Brothers' Grandpa Rome, everything was kept top secret and only nations knew of those secrets.

China sat on his bed and gulped down the rest of his tea. He was starting to miss his Russian lover and he knew that Russia would be missing him. But in a couple of weeks, they'd be seeing each other again real soon at the next world meeting. Maybe he could get some peace and hopefully those damned younger nations would go away. Well, one could only live in hope. And that was one thing he had.

Russia was missing China. That's all he could say. The snow had gone and now it was raining, so the snow that was left was nothing but slush. He watched it from his window as a muddy slush went down the drain. Russia felt depressed. He had the Baltic trio over and his sister but none of them could relieve his boredom. He needed China. China knew how to make him feel better. He never had such a connection with anyone like this since Catherine the Great and...It was something that Russia had never told China before. It was a secret; he would have liked to have taken to the grave...if he could die of course.

But there was one thing that Russia could count on. On China's next visit, he hoped it would snow again and maybe he would stay longer.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hello, I'm back with update on this fanfiction. I've had so much going on it's been difficult wondering what to right next in this story, so I'm sorry if it seems rushed. Also, I can't write Hong Kong and Korea very well. I apologize...**

**Hope you've enjoyed this. Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P. **

**Xxx**

**Tranlsations: **

Nihao – hello


	12. I'm a Slave For You

I'm a Slave 4 U – Britney Spears – Turkraine

**Warning: Rating is M for Turkraine lemon ahead...**

* * *

A match was struck against the box, lighting a flame that let a soft glow fill the room. The match moved towards a candle that looked to have been used for a week and the match was blown out. A dark skinned girl with long dark hair tied back in a braid, stretched and looked over at the girl who was still sleeping in the opposite bed.

"Katyusha? Wake up; we've got chores ahead of us."

Katyusha shifted in her sleep and stretched. She sighed and sat up slowly in bed.

"This is getting quite troublesome." Katyusha murmured.

The dark skinned girl named Michelle chuckled and climbed out of bed to grab her daily uniform. Katyusha followed suit and went to get her uniform. It was a simple maid's uniform that the English gentlemen (their employer) had picked out for the maid's to wear without any worries.

After they both helped each other look tidy, they left their room and spotted the head house keeper, Elizabeta, who was hurrying around getting Belle and Katyusha's sister, Natalia, sorted to start their chores. Katyusha and Michelle walked over to them.

"Ah! Katyusha, Michelle. It's good to see you awake. Well, let's get you girls to work. Ludwig should be getting the other boys ready."

The four house maids left the corridor and headed downstairs to the lounge to start cleaning. Belle brought the cleaning equipment into the lounge. As Michelle and Katyusha worked on a spare room, Elizabeta came into the room.

"Well done, girls. Now, at eleven, we must be in stand by for Mr Kirkland's guest."

"A guest," Michelle asked. "What guest is Mr Kirkland 'aving over?"

Elizabeta looked rather harshly at the girl. "Michelle, that's classified." She then looked around to make sure that nobody was around. When it was all clear, she leaned in and whispered. "But from what I've heart from your cousin, Michelle, Mr Kirkland is having a very distinguished Turkish diplomat over for dinner."

"I wonder what Mr Kirkland would want zat concerns a Turkish diplomat?" Michelle wondered aloud.

"I'm not sure. But it's bound to be something very important. Anyway, you best get back to your chores and check up on the others."

And with that Elizabeta left them to it.

"I wonder what he's going to be like zis Turk. Could he be smart?"

"Well, of course, he's going to be smart, Michelle. If he's a diplomat, he'd have to be."

"Mmm, true. Wonder if he'll be 'andsome?"

"I'm not sure. He could be. But you never know."

"_Oui_. Tall, dark and 'andsome, most Turks are."

Katyusha chuckled. She couldn't help but admire Michelle's curiosity. She wondered how Carlos, Michelle's boyfriend, put up with it. But girls could be a little curious, especially at her age. Katyusha had once been a little curious about things until she had grown up and the innocence of learning things and wondering, vanished. As they finished tucking up the new covers of the bed, Katyusha checked the time.

"Come on, Michelle. We'd better head down to the kitchens and get something to eat."

When they reached the kitchens, the smell of freshly cooked food reached their noses. Francis never failed to make their stomachs growl for his food.

"_Bonjour mon cousin_ and Katyusha, it's a beautiful morning, _non_?"

"_Oui_, Francis. What's for breakfast?" Michelle asked, trying to look over her cousin's shoulder to see.

"_Non, non, non, non, mon cheri_. Not until it's made. Mathieu, are you nearly done wiz zose ingredients?"

"Nearly, _mon amour_!" Matthew called from around the corner.

Katyusha watched as the shy Canadian brought over a huge bowl of gooey mixture and handed it to Francis who put it in front of him. As everyone sat down, the blonde pulled his shy lover towards him and embraced him in a passionate kiss.

"Not at ze table, please." said a stern voice.

Everyone looked round to see Ludwig, standing in the doorway. Francis pouted, still cradling Matthew.

"Oh, come on, Luddy." He whined. "Let me just 'ave a little smooch."

"Like I said Francis: not at ze table."

"Oh, fine zen. But tell us are you enjoying your time wiz zat cute Italian in ze village?"

Ludwig froze on the spot. He looked at the Frenchman, who was staring at his Canadian lover, trailing his fingers through his hair.

"What's this I'm hearing?" Elizabeta asked, coming into the kitchen and beaming at Ludwig. "A cute Italian boy has caught your eye, Ludwig?"

Ludwig snapped out of his state and glared as everyone. "It's none of your business. Francis, Matthew, get back to vork. Mr Kirkland grows impatient for his breakfast. He has a long day ahead of him viz his new guest arriving."

"Well, 'e'll just 'ave to wait besides I need to feed 'is staff first, if 'e wants 'is 'ouse in order."

"Where's Alfred? I thought he changed Mr Kirkland ages ago." asked Katyusha.

"Probably kissing each ozer's faces off." giggled Belle. This made the other's laugh except Ludwig.

"Zat is not funny, Belle. It's not proper to be talking about ze master's affairs."

Belle went quiet and sipped her black coffee. Katyusha poured herself a milky tea and took the paper to read. As everyone was settled down and Francis and Matthew served up the breakfast: full English breakfast alongside a plate of three pancakes with pure Canadian maple syrup and a rack of toast with strawberry jam, the door burst open and Alfred entered the kitchens. He was straightening his uniform, glasses and hair.

"Alfred, vhere za hell have you been?" Ludwig snarled. "You're late!"

"Sorry, Ludwig, myself and Arthur—"

"Mr Kirkland." Ludwig corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, well, I had some trouble waking up him this morning."

The maids started to giggle. "Girls, hush!" ordered Elizabeta, though she was having trouble trying not to laugh.

Alfred smirked and sat down beside the footman, Toris. Matthew handed him a large plate or pancakes with a large dollop of maple syrup. The American grinned, cut a large piece of pancake and shovelled it into his mouth and began to chew noisily. Ludwig sighed and shook his head as Elizabeta looked on at the scene with a disgusted look. Being his cousin, Matthew sighed and shyly walked over to a beaming Francis, who was happy that the American was enjoying his food, even if it wasn't very dignified. Belle, Michelle and Katyusha were having trouble containing their laughter but Natalia was busy eating as though this happened all the time.

* * *

Sadiq struck a match and held it to his pipe. He took a few puffs of the pipe until it was lit, blew the match out and threw it out of the limo window. He sat back with the window still open and took a long drag on his pipe. He exhaled and closed his eyes. He was on an important case with the Lord Kirkland about...god only knows what. Sadiq never paid much attention to important matters that didn't concern him. Even though, he was part of this case with Mr Kirkland, Sadiq wasn't interested in it. He knew that Mr Kirkland would look at documents and consider the facts carefully before coming to an agreement.

He would always need a little backup of the details that the ambassadors had and then he would make a firm decision. But Sadiq used this as an excuse to get away from the political life. He never understood why he had gone into politics in the first place, but his father had forced him into this and he had worked his teenage years to get into the place he was in now. He needed a break and going to the Kirkland Manor was the perfect setup. He was staying for a week or two until the decision was made or until Kirkland saw fit that he left.

The limo turned a corner towards an open wooden gate and drove slowly down a long gravelled path. Ahead he could see the manor house. Even though it looked more like a villa, it had been spiced up to look more like a manor with its grounds and the inside. A small maze was tucked to the left of the house and was being pruned by two shirtless men. At another corner of the house, a garden was also being pruned by another shirtless guy. He sure liked his shirtless guys, Sadiq thought.

A couple of maids were hanging up the laundry and taking down the set that looked to be put up earlier today. As the limo turned around and pulled on to the driveway, Sadiq saw a small gathering of people all standing in a line, smartly dressed and waiting for him to arrive. In the middle he could see Arthur Kirkland. The limo pulled up at the front in front of the line of people waiting. Sadiq opened the door and stepped out.

"Arthur Kirkland. You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

"Neither have you, old friend." Arthur said, stepping forward and shaking the diplomat's hand.

"Thank you, Kirkland. I'm still as handsome as ever." Sadiq teased. He then looked around at the staff members. "Now, you'll have to remind me who everyone is. It's been a while since I've been here and you might have new staff."

"Of course."

They turned to the staff. Arthur led him over to a tall man with short blonde hair that was smoothed back with cold blue eyes. Sadiq remembered Ludwig every well.

"Now, I remember you, Luddy. How are you?"

"Very vell, sir." Ludwig replied.

"Oh, please, Ludwig, stop with the formalities. We're all friends here."

"Yes, Sadiq." Ludwig said, inclining his head.

Sadiq smiled looked to the next person.

"This Elisabeta Héderváry, she is my new housekeeper."

It's nice to meet you, Miss Elisabeta. How long have you been here for?"

"Three months, Mr Sadiq."

"Well, I hope you enjoy yourself here. Arthur will treat you well."

Elisabeta curtsied and clasped her hands in front of her. Arthur led him towards a very dashing man with sparkling sky blue eyes and a wide grin on his face. Sadiq was sure he saw the man winking at Arthur. Arthur gave him a reprimanding look that made the man chuckling quietly.

"This is my valet, Alfred."

"Oh, yes the American valet. I've heard a lot about you from Arthur here."

"Oh, you have? What's he said about me?"

"That you're very energetic and hardworking and never let him down...though you can be annoying at times."

The grin that Alfred wore earlier soon vanished. He glared at Arthur as they walked away from him to the four maids, who curtsied to him.

"These are my maids: Belle, Natalia, Michelle and Katyusha. Katyusha, here, is new and sister to Natalia, who has been working her longer than her."

"How long have you been working here for, Natalia?"

"Five years, sir."

"Ah, I see." He then turned to Katyusha, who bowed to him again. "And you're Katyusha?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have a beautiful name, my dear."

"Thank you, sir."

"And how long have you been working here for?"

"A week tomorrow, sir."

"Well, I'm sure you're doing a fine job."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, Katyusha. Call me Sadiq."

Katyusha smiled, making her look really beautiful. Sadiq smiled back.

* * *

After being introduced to the staff members, Sadiq and Arthur left the staff to head inside as the footman, Toris and Sadiq's chauffeur, Gupta, collected his belongings. Sadiq followed Arthur to the lounge for coffee or tea and something sweet to eat. As the Turkish diplomat looked around the place, he noticed that nothing had changed since the last time he was here. He knew Arthur wasn't keen on change.

Arthur opened the door to the lounge and led the Turk over to two large sofas with a fine polished, mahogany coffee table. Sadiq sat down removed his jacket.

"Well, Sadiq, do you have the papers for me to look at?"

"I do, yes."

"Good. I'll look at them tomorrow. Right, now you can rest from your long trip."

"Well, _sağol_, Arthur."

"Please, Sadiq. Speak English. It's bad enough I have that damn frog speaking French every minute when I don't speak it...and he knows full well I don't."

"Francis? The French cook?"

"That's the one. He's still here, unfortunately."

"Oh, right. And what about that cute little Canadian boy, that he kept chased after? What was his name? Marcus?"

"Matthew. Yes, and yes he's still chasing him. Although, I should say that the chase has finally ended as they are now dating."

"Really, I never knew you allowed that? I knew you were raised to be a proper gentleman and keep this house going—"

"Please, Sadiq, this is the twenty-first century and I'm not that prejudiced either. I allow my staff to do what they wish so long as it doesn't interfere with their work."

"Your brothers never did this?"

"God no!"

The doors opened and Katyusha entered the room, carrying a large tray with two cups of the finest china, Arthur had inherited and a pot of tea with milk and sugar pot, along with an assortment of sandwiches.

"Ah! Katyusha, you brought the tea. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir." Katyusha said, walking over to them and setting the tray down gently and handing over to the cups to them. "There we are."

"Thank you, Katyusha. You can be on your way now."

"Thank you, sir."

Sadiq looked at her as she glanced at him. Her cheeks went pink as he smiled at her and she smiled back. She bowed and left the room. Sadiq watched her go, his eyes fixed on her hips as they swayed. When she was gone, the Turk turned back, grinning at his old friend.

"You've got a fine one there. She's a beauty!"

Arthur paused in his work to look at him. "You mean Katyusha? Oh, yes. She's a good worker."

"Yes, I see. Where did you find that beautiful girl?"

"She came from Ukraine about six years ago and lived in the little village ever since. Her sister, Natalia, came to me with money issues that Katyusha was having and wanted her sister to be applied here to pay off her debts. I agreed. She was a suitable candidate and here she is."

"Ukrainian, huh, my, my, my, if only all Ukrainian women were like her!"

"You like her then?"

"Heck, yeah, I wouldn't mind tapping—"

"Please, Sadiq. Never use that kind talk about my staff or else."

"I apologize." Sadiq said, holding his hands up in an act of surrender.

* * *

Meanwhile, Katyusha turned a corner and opened the door to the kitchen, to be greeted by a mob of questions.

"Well, what's he like?"

"Did he speak to you?"

"Did you talk back?"

"Is he a smooth talker?"

"Did he kiss you when Arthur wasn't looking?"

Katyusha stared at everyone. "I...I don't know. He never talked much; he sat there, staring at me."

"Ah ha!" Francis said, whacking his rolling pin against the lamb chop he was preparing. "Ze stare. It is a classic sign of someone liking you."

"But him staring at her would mean anything." said Matthew.

"You would know_, mon chou_." Francis purred as he leaned in towards his lover, making him go red.

"Francis, please!" Elisabeta said, coming from the wine cellar. "The sign, as you call it, could mean anything."

"Oh, please. Katyusha, _mon cheri_, what kind of look was he giving you?"

"Ummm...I don't know. It was..." she thought back to when she had strolled over to the two men with their tea. She had glanced a look at his handsome face. He smiled at her and she had blushed. "He looked at me and gave me a smile. It was...like he was looking at me fondly; it was like he...was looking into my eyes."

"_Merci_, Katyusha. Case closed. He gave her a fond smile. So put two and two togezer and we have our result."

"What, a dopey diplomat who likes to perve on innocent maids?" Alfred said, looking up from his paper.

Francis snarled at the American. "No, you idiot, it is not zat kind of zing at all! It is what all romance authors love to do. To sprinkle zat in zeir books, a classical taboo relationship! 'Ze forbidden fruit' plot. Ze taste of a forbidden love zat everyone dreams about."

"You make it sound like we're in a book." Alfred scoffed.

Francis brandished his rolling pin, wanting to hit the valet, but stopped when his lover placed a gently hand on his wrist. Francis smiled and nuzzled his neck, making Matthew giggle.

"So, Katyusha," Matthew asked, "Are you going to dive in for the taste of forbidden romance?"

"Matthew, I hardly know him!" Katyusha exclaimed.

"Well, take ze chance to get to know him. I did wiz Mathieu, before we courted." Francis leaned and kissed the Canadian, as Alfred pretended to vomit behind the paper.

Katyusha looked at Elisabeta. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, speaking as the housekeeper of the Kirkland manor, I would be objecting that you do so, but as your friend..." she looked round and whispered. "You go for it, sweetie. You two would be the perfect couple, forbidden fruit or not."

Katyusha smiled and nodded. "Well, what harm could it do, huh?"

* * *

On Sadiq's third day of staying at the manor house, Sadiq was sitting in the study. Arthur was out in the village to visit his brother and had left Sadiq in the study, to catch up on his work for the Turkish government. He was just finishing off a very long file of paperwork, when the door opened, disrupting his peace and quiet. He looked up and was about to snarl when his eyes, widened at the sight of the person entering.

Katyusha the Ukrainian maid, who had caught his eye and he had craved for since arriving here. She smiled at him.

"Hello, Mr Adnan. I'm just here to do a little tidying up, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Sadiq said gesturing for her to continue.

She smiled her most beautiful smile and went over to the far corner of the study to tidy the bookshelf. Sadiq's gaze soon focused on her cleaning and not his work. She was like a delicate angel with the way she moved and took things down, dusting them off and placing them back. She seemed to be...perfect in every way. He silently cleared his throat and broke the silence between them.

"You look very beautiful today, Miss Katyusha?"

_CLANG_!

She had dropped the candelabra she had been polishing and turned to look at him.

"I-I-I-I'm sorry?" she stuttered.

"I said you look very beautiful today." He repeated.

Katyusha blushed and smiled. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

She bent down to pick up the candelabra. With her huge bosom in the way, he was quite baffled with how she could work with them around. Were they real? He couldn't ask her or else, he would lose his chance with her. Or a slap in the face!

"Do you enjoy working here?"

"I do, yes. It's a worthy job and it helps me with my debts. Once, they're in the clear."

"Yes, Mr Kirkland told me about this."

"Yes, he would." Katyusha then walked over to him and went to straighten a portrait. She dusted it off a little as he still continued to watch her. She turned round and saw him staring. She smiled a little and suddenly the shy defensive shield kicked in. Sadiq sighed and got up from his seat. Her pale cheeks became a slight pink colour as he walked even closer to him.

Sadiq took a deep breath and leaned in towards the maid, his lips brushing lightly against hers.

"Mr. Adnan..."

"Please, Katyusha, call me Sadiq."

And he leaned in again and brushed his lips on hers again, but this time with more passion. Katyusha gasped out in surprise. As he lips brushed hers again, Katyusha pulled back. Her cheeks were flushed red.

"I...I'm sorry, Mr—Sadiq, but I can't go through with this...I'll get fired."

"Katyusha, _sevgili_," The Turk growled playfully. "Me and your boss are very good friends, he'll understand."

"No, I can't. _Prosty_, Sadiq."

And with that Katyusha collected her things and left the room. Sadiq watched her go. When the door closed, he swore in native tongue, slamming his fist into the finely polished table. After a dozen or so slams, Sadiq unclenched his fist and inspected his knuckles. They were cracked bloodied. Sadiq sighed. He couldn't believe he had just lost the one person he cared about. He had to make it up to her. Privately or publicly. He had to do something to show that he cared for her and that she would accept his and her feelings. _  
_

* * *

Katyusha sat crossed her legged on her bed, already in her nightgown. The bedroom lamp flickered in the darkness, her shadow looming over her behind the wall. She stared at a blank spot on her blanket, her mind kept wandering back to what had happened hours ago? She couldn't believe that she had kissed Sadiq but had also rejected him! Well, it had been quite sudden and she had suddenly felt a rush of haste that made her jump away. But she had wanted to kiss him! The others had pushed her into it. They had given her push to find him and slowly get to know him before anything happened. But Sadiq had completely rushed things and Katyusha had backed off.

The door opened up, interrupting Katyusha's thoughts. Michelle came into the room with Belle and Elizabeta.

"Hey, Katyusha, Belle and Elizabeta need to borrow our iron as the wire on theirs has gone." Michelle explained as she sat down on her bed.

"That's fine." Katyusha said, quietly as she wrapped her arms around herself, slightly squashing her huge chest.

Even though, she wasn't looking up, she could sense that they were exchanging glances at each other.

"What's wrong, Kat?" Belle asked as she sat down beside her.

"Nothing...I don't want to talk about it."

That was lie. She did want to talk about it. So, why didn't she?

"Katyusha," Elizabeta asked. "What happened?"

"I...I was with Sadiq, today."

"And what happened?" Michelle asked, suddenly getting excited.

"He...He kissed me and I...I stopped it."

"What, why?"

"I don't know. I just...I didn't want anyone to find out and then Arthur would fire me."

"Oh, Kat!" Belle said. "Francis and Matthew are working together and Arthur's fine with it."

"And we all know zat Alfred is 'aving lovey dovey moments wiz Mister Kirkland and 'e's still 'ere." Michelle said, with a small giggle.

"I don't see why you should get fired for being with a Turkish diplomat." said Elizabeta.

"But...but..."

"But nothing, Katyusha," Elizabeta groaned. "You want to be with him and he obviously wants to be with you. He's probably lying in his bed feeling guilty about what he's done. Tomorrow, you go out and find him and apologize."

"Exactly," said Belle. "And zen you two can run off to Turkey, get married and maybe 'ave six or seven children."

Katyusha blushed at this comment. "Belle, please."

Elizabeta sighed and stopped ironing. "We don't need to think that far ahead, girls. Just focus on you two getting together and _then_ running off to Turkey."

Katyusha pondered a little. "Well, I...suppose."

"Don't suppose anything. Just go to him."

Katyusha nodded and smiled. "Thank you, girls."

Soon they ended up having one big friendship girly hug as the room was filled with giggles and squeals. _  
_

* * *

Sadiq woke with a start. The room was dark and the clock on his drawer told him it was two in the morning. He looked around in the dark, his eyes adjusting slowly.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"Sadiq...it's me." said a voice that sounded really familiar.

Sadiq blinked and saw... "Katyusha?"

"Yeah, it's me." The maid said, walking over to the bed side and sitting down.

Sadiq moved closer to the maid and ran hand through her blonde hair. "What are you doing in my room at this time of night?"

"I...I wanted to talk about this afternoon."

"No, we don't." Sadiq said, wanting to change the subject."

"Well, I do." Katyusha said, catching his hands in her smaller smooth ones. "I wanted to apologize. I...over reacted."

Sadiq leaned over and switched on the lamp. They both blinked from the bright light. Sadiq looked at the Ukrainian girl; she looked stunning in her night gown that showed off her curves in the right places.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"I...I never should have backed away when the feeling is entirely mutual."

Sadiq's eyes widened. "What?"

Katyusha rolled her eyes and leaned in towards the diplomat and kissed him. Sadiq was a little taken aback by this but he soon leaned in to the kiss, deepening it. He soon pulled back and gazed into the girl's beautiful eyes.

"So, you do want to be with me?"

"Yes, I do, Sadiq, very much so. I want to be with you every step of the way. I want to move to Turkey with you."

"Very well, then. We'll go when this is business deal is over. We'll tell Arthur in the morning."

Katyusha nodded and leaned over to huddle in the Turk's warmth. Sadiq smiled as he felt the smaller body press into his. Her chest squashed against his. Sadiq brushed her blonde hair away from her face and leaned back into the kiss. Katyusha squeaked in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sadiq moaned against her lips and nibbled on her bottom lip for entrance. She opened her mouth and soon Sadiq's tongue slipped inside and began to explore every nook and cranny of her mouth. She tasted of the rich rose tea that Arthur was keen on and of something else, something exotic, maybe something from her homeland.

Katyusha pulled away, panting. "_Ya khochu tebe, Sadyk_." She purred in her native tongue.

"_Seni biliyorum_." He growled in his language and soon trailed a fleet of kisses down her neck and to the joint where the neck and shoulder. The Ukrainian cried out and moaned, her head titling to the side. Sadiq smiled against her skin whilst inhaling her perfect scent. He could feel her leaning her head down against his shoulder.

Sadiq moved his hand down from her waist down towards the hem of her nightgown. But before he could pull it up, the Turk could feel the girl shaking a little.

"Kat, what's wrong?"

"Nothing...I'm just...a little nervous."

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to. If you want to stop, I'll understand and I will."

"No, Sadiq. It's fine, I want this."

"As long you're sure."

"I am." Katyusha nodded.

Sadiq nodded and pulled away the nightgown, exposing the maid's beautiful body to the cool air. He tugged her close to his body, giving her his warmth and pulled her in for another kiss.

Her hands began to travel from his shoulders to his bare and slightly hair chest, the tips of her fingers toying with the hairs, making him growl. Sadiq scooped her in his arms, making her squeal, a little. He laid her down so that her head was resting against the soft duck feathery pillows. She smiled up at him as he gazed down at her, fondly. He couldn't help but feel a sudden warmth and affection for her. This beautiful girl seemed to light up his world. His boring old world that was full of boring politics and stress. She was his cure!

"Katyusha...you're perfect."

The Ukrainian's cheeks went red at this. "Thank you, Sadiq."

Sadiq looked down and began to trail a path of kisses from her neck, down between the valley of her huge breasts, of which he squeezed, then down her navel and to her core. Katyusha mewled and began to lightly rutt her hips against his mouth, making him groan and his tongue wriggled in her entrance, making her cry out into the pillows, muffling them.

Sadiq then moved away and began to crawl up her body his bare erection poking her in her stomach.

"Katyusha, I need you." He panted.

"Me too, Sadiq, please..." Katyusha said, wrapping her legs around his waist.

The Turk nodded and reached down between them to position is organ against her entrance. Katyusha nodded and he slid inside into her wet cavern. Katyusha whimpered and Sadiq froze, making sure that she was all right. She needed to get used to his size. There were tears building up in the corner of her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb.

"Are you okay, my angel?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It just hurts a little."

"Well, you just have to say so and we'll stop here."

"No, it's all good." She then moved her hips, indicating for him to move. He smiled at the beautiful girl and soon began to move his hips, slowly and surely. Katyusha's moans became breathless pants as the Turk moved against her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and buried her face into his neck and nibbled on a sensitive spot. The golden eyed man growled and his thrusts began to increase. Katyusha moaned against his skin, accidentally biting down. Sadiq grunted and he snapped his hips.

"Mmph!" Katyusha cried and let go out of the skin. "Sadiq, I...oh, god..."

"Katyusha, my angel, you're so tight and so good."

"Oh, Sadiq!"

He reached down and angled their hips so that he could indulge deeper into Katyusha. She squealed and clutched him tighter against her.

"Katyusha...angel...I'm getting close."

"So, am I. Oh, Sadiq!"

After a few thrusts, Sadiq released himself deep inside of her, calling out her name into the night and Katyusha soon followed, crying her lover's name in her language and slumped against the bed sheets. Sadiq collapsed on top of her. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the two lovers catching their breaths.

"Sadiq...that was..."

"Amazing!" he breathed.

Katyusha nodded. The diplomat rolled off his maid, onto his side and pulled the covers over them. Katyusha moved in beside him and soon they fell asleep, tangled in their arms and legs, only wanting each other and their dreams recalling of the intimate encounter. _  
_

* * *

"So, you two are together then?" Arthur asked, lifting his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

Katyusha blushed and nodded. "Yes, we are, sir."

Arthur nodded and set down his cup on the matching saucer. "I see."

The two lovers were sat outside with Arthur under a set of garden furniture, sheltered under a large garden umbrella. Belle and Michelle were standing a few away with Ludwig, who was talking with his brother, Gilbert. The maids were trying their best to eavesdrop on the conversation but the reprimanding looks that Ludwig sent made them stop.

"What do you mean 'I see'?" Sadiq asked, looking disbelieving at his old friend.

Arthur sighed. "I mean nothing that will cause you any doubt. I'm happy for you, the both of you."

"Thank you, Arthur. By the way, I hear that you and Alfred are together."

Arthur's hand on his tea cup began to shake, rattling the china cup on its small saucer. "How—how do you know about that?"

"The maid's know everything." *** **The Turk smirked and sipped at his black coffee.

Arthur gazed at the Turk and then to Katyusha, who blushed and looked away not meeting her employer's eyes.

"So, my own staff has turned against me, I see." Arthur growled.

Sadiq sniggered until Katyusha elbowed him in the ribs.

"Well, I suppose that you're going to hand in your resignation on the day before Sadiq leaves?"

"Yes, sir, if that's fine with you."

"It's perfectly fine. You're both in love and I am not one to judge."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, Arthur." Sadiq said as he poured himself another cup of tea. He glanced over to the German brothers who were talking. "Is that Gilbert?"

"Yes, it is. He's my gardener."

"H-how...is he still...?"

"With Frederick?" Arthur asked. "He was but Frederick passed away two months ago, Gilbert has not been the same since, Ludwig keeps an eye on him at all times. We all have to."

"Frederick died? But how, he was always so strong?"

"Apparently, he had a heart attack in the middle of the night. Gilbert didn't even know and blames himself for it." Arthur said, his gaze wandering over to the albino gardener. "His will and soul might have been strong, but his heart wasn't."

"Poor Gilbert." Sadiq said.

Gilbert sighed and walked away from his brother, his usual swag was gone and he looked a complete wreck.

Katyusha laid her head against Sadiq's shoulder.

* * *

_Nine years later..._

Katyusha stretched as she stood on the balcony of her home, looking out over hot yet beautiful city. She glanced out at the Turkish palaces and beautiful architecture. She couldn't believe that she now lived here with her four year husband and high diplomat, Sadiq. She glanced down at the silver band that glowed on her ring finger. She smiled, remembering the day very well as though it was yesterday.

"Are you out here again?" a voice growled, playfully.

Katyusha giggled as her husband, hugged her from behind. Sadiq's dark skinned hand rubbed circles on her tummy and a wolfish grin spread across his face.

"What do you think it'll be?" she asked, placing her hands on his.

"Probably a boy...but I can't help but want a girl nonetheless. But there is no way I am letting them go into politics. They are not going to end up like their old man that's for sure."

Katyusha giggled. "Well, what do you suppose they should do?"

"I don't know just as long as it's not politics." He walked around so that they were standing face to face. He knelt down and spoke to the little bump. "You hear your old man? No politics or else."

Katyusha giggled even more. Boy, could her husband act like childish? But he did is best to make their marriage work and fun. Sadiq kissed the bump and stood up and kissed his wife on the lips.

"You may find that being a diplomat is kind of cool." Katyusha said.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, the only places in my life that I had been to before I met you were my hometown in Ukraine and when I moved to England. Now, that I'm with you, I live here in a gorgeous city. I've been to Moscow, Athens, Tokyo, Paris and Bermuda. I've been spoiled rotten by you for taking me along with you. Telling me to go sight-seeing and shop til I drop. You really don't have to do that. Being with you and marrying you is enough."

"Well, isn't that what husbands want to do for their wives? Bless them, give them a good happy marriage and make them feel like a queen. Treat them as they are the most precious thing in the world. Because that's how I see you! When I saw you for the first time you were so beautiful. I felt like asking you if you had fallen from heaven but that would have been a step too far."

Katyusha smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well, I thought you were quite dishy in your formal suit and tie. I wanted to get to know you but I was...a little scared. Everyone told me to go for it but I just..."

Sadiq silenced her by a soft kiss on the lips. "Well, you don't have to be scared anymore. We're together. We're married, we're gonna have a _küçük bir çocuk_."

"A what?"

Sadiq scowled. "I thought I taught you in Turkish. We're gonna have a little kid. But you might be scared about the amount of paperwork I receive weekly."

"I worry about that plenty but I try not to think about it, especially with our little one on the way."

Sadiq grinned. Soon the moment was interrupted by a ringing of a phone. Sadiq growled and pulled out his phone. He growled at the name on the screen but answered it nonetheless.

"What the Allah do you want, feta breath?"

Oh, joy! Herakles had called this meant a whole hour of nothing but pathetic arguments. Katyusha rolled her eyes and left the balcony to sit on their soft bed. When Katyusha had arrived in her husband's home, she had discovered a bedroom with several multicoloured ottoman chairs and a super king sized bed ***** that was draped with gold and dark blue bedding and golden drapes with at least twenty or more pillows on the bed. Sadiq had confessed that he liked the harem bed chamber designs. Katyusha had first found it a nightmare to get comfy with all those pillows but now she had gotten used to it and she knew that it would be good for future stages of pregnancy.

Katyusha leaned back against the pillows and rested there trying to tune out her husband's yells down the phone._  
_

Her thoughts suddenly went to the Kirkland Manor house. She wondered what they were all up to now. This wasn't the first time she had thought about her friends and employees at the Manor. She had voiced this a few times to Sadiq, he had understood completely about it as he was old friends with Arthur and sometimes missed him. She often wondered if Ludwig was still dating the little Italian in the local town. Wondered if Francis and Matthew were still together if they had gotten married yet; adopted a child, if Elizabeta and her husband, Roderich, were still living a happy life together. If Arthur and Alfred had _finally_ plucked up the courage and announced that they were dating...and if her sister was okay.

She had felt bad about leaving her sister behind in England whilst she had left for Turkey to live with Sadiq. She asked her sister if she would be okay and Natalia had promised her she would be fine. But Katyusha couldn't help but wonder if she wouldn't be. After when their older brother had gone away, Natalia had gone into a big state of depression and was giving two weeks of leave until she felt back on her feet. Now, Katyusha couldn't help but wonder if she had gone back into that state of depression.

"Look, feta breath. I've got a lot to do here without you breathing your Greek salad breath down my neck." There was a pause. "Hey, look here Jerkules I've a got pregnant wife to look after so shut your yap!"

And with that he hung up the phone and walked back into the room. Katyusha looked up at her husband.

"You okay? What did Herakles want?"

"Just for me to fill some paperwork for him the Ministry of Defence; it's ridiculous. He can file his own damn paperwork. It's not that hard!"

"Sweetie, please calm down."

Sadiq took a big sigh and sat down beside Katyusha, his big hand resting on her stomach. "Sorry, honey. I just hate this job so much."

"Well, why don't you look for another job?"

"I would love too, Kat, but getting another job here is really difficult. There are hardly any jobs going. It's a nightmare."

Katyusha smiled and trailed a hand through Sadiq's hair, soothing his nerves. He hummed and rested his head against her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Sadiq, darling. It'll be over before ya know it and maybe you'll have a long break that you deserve. Besides you'll need it for when the baby's due. Surely they can let you off for that."

"I don't know. I've never been pregnant before."

Katyusha giggled a pressed a soft kiss on Sadiq's head. "Well, I'm sure they will, honey.

* * *

The next day, Katyusha woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and picked up the noisy phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Mrs Adnan?"

"It is. Can I ask who's calling?"

"Ah, yes this is Mr Raji. His boss, I'm just calling to let him know that he'll have to make a departure in two days to England to meet up with Mr Kirkland. There is some business that concerns him and us."

"Oh, right. Well, I'm afraid, Sadiq's out at the moment. But I'll be happy to give him the message and have him call you."

"Oh, thank you so much, Mrs Adnan. How are you with your pregnancy?"

"Oh, fine thanks. Hopefully I'll be able to fly out and see my friends again. It's been a long time since I last saw them."

"That's great, Mrs Adnan. Oh, I must go now, we have a meeting in ten minutes."

"Okay. Thank you again, Mr Raji."

"No problem. Goodbye."

"Bye."

Katyusha put down the phone and let out a tiny squeal of delight. Yes, finally, she was able to see her sister and friends after a long time. She couldn't wait. She got up out of bed and headed out of the bedroom and heading down the stairs to the kitchen. When she reached bottom stairs, entering the kitchen, she found Sadiq making breakfast. She pitter-pattered over to him and squeezed his shoulders.

"Morning, gorgeous." She purred.

"Morning, my little wifey. How are you?"

"Good...in fact I'm great."

"Why? Is it 'cause you're married to me?"

Katyusha giggled. "Apart from that! Your boss called. Some big thing has come up and they want you to head to Kirkland Manor to sort it out."

"You're kidding? Did Raji say what it was about?"

"No, but it really concerns Arthur and your boss."

"Well, that's great we've always talked about going back. you'll be able to see Natalia again."

"I know. It's fantastic! Will I able to fly?"

"Of course, you're only three weeks pregnant. It barely shows but you may have to be very careful for the baby's sake."

"Okay, sweetie, I can't wait see everyone."

"Neither can I. I can't help but wonder if Arthur and Alfred have finally hooked up yet." _  
_

"I don't know. Maybe, we always thought that they would. They wouldn't admit it even though we knew. Francis would tease Alfred to no end until Matthew shut him up. Of course, the two were drunk but...they were perfect for one another. It was kind of like when Gilbert and Frederick were dating. They were so right for each other. Even though, Gilbert was annoying and could let his ego get in the way, Frederick was always there to dim the flames and make him nothing but a pile of goo."

"Yeah, I remember how they first got together." Sadiq said, handing Katyusha a plate full of food and an orange juice. "Gilbert was still the gardener there and Frederick was first footman. I secretly caught them talking to each other and – BAM! – They kissed and it wasn't just your innocent 'lets-just-have-a-little-smooch' kiss. They were having – what Arthur calls – a fierce song!"

"And they didn't see you?"

"No, but let's just say they disappeared in Frederick's room. Don't know how long for, thought."

Katyusha giggled. "It's a shame Frederick died. He was a fighter! He really was."

"Yeah, but it seems as though his health decided to fight back." Sadiq said and took a sip from his coffee. "Anyway, did Raji say when we'll be leaving?"

"In two days."

"What? Two days? Could they not decide it quicker for my benefit?"

"Our benefit!" she corrected.

Sadiq smiled and kissed her on the lips. "So, shall we get packing? You decide and I'll load the suitcases. Not you, not in your condition."

"Fine, we'll get sorted now."

* * *

Katyusha looked out at the Manor House in front of her waiting for Sadiq and Gupta unloaded the bags from the limo. The Manor had not changed a bit. The villa style still looked the same but brand new. Arthur always liked the style of his villa and intended to keep it the same even though a few things needed touching up. The maze still sat in the corner, with Gilbert, Lovino and Antonio working on it. From the windows she could see her old room that she had shared with Michelle. She often wondered who had taken her place whilst she had been living in Turkey.

Sadiq walked beside her and wrapped his arms across her shoulders. "It feels good to be back?"

Katyusha paused, then a smile creep up on her face. "Yeah, it really does. It feels great! I've missed this place so much! I'm glad I've come back!" _  
_

"It will be. You'll have a lot of catching up and gossiping to do! So make it worth your while."

Katyusha smiled and they walked to the front doors. She didn't know why but she felt very shaky. Sadiq's hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Katyusha took a deep breath and knocked on the doors over the Manor house. After a minute of standing outside, the door opened and Elizabeta stood in the door. She stared at the couple for a moment, blinked.

"Kat, Sadiq? Is that you?"

* * *

**A/N: **

***Princess Diaries 2 reference, for anyone who has watched the film! Haha **

*** Yeah, that size does exist! No joke, look it up :D **

**Hello, every peoples! I'm back with a new chapter! I apologize that it's so long but if you like long chapters, all righty then! When I was writing this chapter, I felt as though it had a Downton Abbey feel to it, it was so weird. By the way this is set nowadays for those of you who were a little confused of the era it was set! Also, I've made a change for this sonfic series, I've decided instead of having just countryxcountry pairings, I've decided to have countryxcountry and countryxhistorical figure pairing. Call it a change of heart it you will. This for all of you people who love Turkraine, I know I do. It's one of the most adorablest pairings I've ever seen. **

**Hope you enjoyed this. If you have any requests please put it in either a review or send a message to me, which ever is easy for you. **

**Reviews and requests are love :)**

**M.S.P. **

**Xxxx **

**Translations: **

Oui – yes

Bonjour mon cousin – hello my cousin

Non – no

Mon cheri – my darling

Mon amour – my love

Sağol, Arthur – Thank you, Arthur

Mon chou – my poppet

Merci, Katyusha – Thank, Katyusha

Sevgili – Dear

Prosty – I'm sorry

Ya khochu tebe, Sadyk – I want you

Seni biliyorum – I know

Küçük bir çocuk – little child


	13. Please Don't Leave Me

Please Don't Leave Me – P!nk – Spamano

**Just to clarify; this DOESN'T have any sexual shota, underage sex or anything under them categories, just colony and guardian Spamano fluff! But there is cursing by Romano, who the bloody hell taught them words at such a young age?! God! Enjoy!**

* * *

Little Romano sat in the corner...

Crying.

It had been at least three or five years...or maybe even longer since Spain his caretaker had left. Romano didn't know how long or when he had sat in this corner and let his feelings pour out. He had no one around him to confess to. No shoulder to cry on, no one to give him hugs and tell him everything was going to be okay. He had no Spain to tell him so. His brother, Veneziano, was living with Austria and Hungary and he wouldn't have time to come down at see his brother.

Romano was all alone. Spain had gone off fighting against England, Austria and Hungary with France and Prussia. But before the Hispanic nation had gone off to fight, the two had got into an argument about Spain leaving him alone with no one to care for him. Spain had snapped and scared Romano. Romano stormed off to his room and sulked until Spain left. The next morning, Spain had tried to talk with him through the door.

"_Romano? Romano?" The nation spoke quietly, in case Romano had been sleeping, but Romano was wide awake, he had not slept a wink last night but had silently cried into a pillow. He sat there, his back pressed against the headboard and the blankets wrapped round his waist; the pillows wrinkled and tear stained. He looked at the door in front of him and said nothing. _

"_Romano, I know you're angry with me. But I've got no choice. I must go with my king and fellow people. I have to fight." _

_Romano's grip on this blankets tightened, the tears starting to glisten at the corners of his eyes. But he couldn't let Spain hear. _

"_Romano, I'm sorry about last night, I want to apologise and I know _you_ do too." _

_There was a pause and then... "Look, Roma~, I have to go now. But I'll see you soon. I'll be gone a while as you already know. _Adiós_, my little Romano." _

_There was a sound of footsteps and Romano was alone. The tears slid silently down his cheeks and a small whimper escaped the Italian's lips. Then a heart wrenching cry burst out and the small nation collapsed onto the bed and cried into the blankets. _

Romano hiccupped and sniffled at the memory. He had often argued with Spain on occasions, but mostly it was about stupid things like Romano not tidying his home like Spain had politely asked, the embarrassing things like Romano wetting the bed and not going to the bathroom in time or Romano accidently burning dinner or not learning Spanish correctly. But at a time like this, it was hard on Romano, especially when Spain snapped. During his early Conquistador days, Romano hadn't dared to disobey an order off Spain, the pirate blood in him was still there and on that night, it had boiled over.

A few days after Spain's departure, Romano had finally slunk out of his room and into Spain's. It was the only way that Romano could do that would remind him of his caretaker. The familiar scent of tomatoes, wine and exotic Spanish essences inhaled and exhaled in and out from Romano's nose. When Romano went to bed at night, he would collect one of Spain's shirts and wore it to bed. He then snuggled into the bed sheets and slept peacefully at night, dreaming of the day when he came home. He felt safe sleeping in Spain's room and would make sure that during his lunch and snack breaks, he would hurry off to Spain's room and spend a long length of time in there.

Soon, days turned into weeks, then weeks turned into months and then months became years. Spain had been gone too long and Romano was becoming worried. He didn't know what was going on, whether the battle had been lost or won. Where was Spain? Was he alive? Was he terribly wounded? Was a fellow ally taking care of him until he was better to get back on his feet and home to Romano? Romano could only wonder and hope that everything would be all right. He could only wish that Spain would be all right.

* * *

Spain watched as France unravelled the bandages from his chest and reached from his bed side table, picking out a small washcloth and began to clean the wound he had received a week ago from the bastard England!

"'E's really put a damper on you, 'asn't he?" France asked, placing the wash cloth back the water, wringing it and then carrying on to clean the wound.

"I don't want to talk about it, France." Spain grumbled and he placed his hands behind him and leaned the bed.

France stared at his oldest friend and placed the cloth back in the bowl. France stood up and sat by Spain. "It's been nearly eight years, _mon ami_, 'ave you not even written to 'im?"

"No, I haven't and he hasn't even sent me a letter. He hasn't forgiven me."

"Since ze argument... I see. Well, you'll be 'ome soon and you'll be able to see Romano and tell 'im properly zat you're sorry...and 'opefully, 'e'll forgive you too."

Spain sighed. "I was an idiot to snap at him, _Francia_. He didn't want to be left alone. He wanted to come with me. But I couldn't. I couldn't let him get hurt."

Spain suddenly felt a hand being placed on his shoulder. He looked up as France gave him a small smile.

"I understand 'ow you feel, _cheri._ I 'ad to leave my _cheri_ Canada too. Ze poor zing is all alone in 'is 'ome. 'E only 'as 'is little polar bear to comfort 'im at night...even Gilbert 'as 'ad to leave his brozer to go to war."

"I never thought..."

"It's understandable_, mon cher_. You should 'ave seen ze look on 'is face when I told 'im I 'ad to go. 'E was crying 'is little 'eart out."

Spain looked on as he watched his best friend, crumple and shake from tears. He moved closer and hugged his friend. France leaned in to the embrace. Spain ran a hand up and down his back, giving him the comfort that he needed.

After a few moments, the two friends broke apart and France wiped his eyes on his cravat. He sniffed and smiled that winning smile.

"So, are you going straight back after zis?"

"After what? The war's finished."

"No_, mon ami_, Fritz and Prussia 'ave invited us and zose who 'ave been zeir allies for a celebration drink."

"Well, tell them thank you but I just want to get home to Romano. I have to apologise to him, even if he hates me. I just need to know that he's all right and he'll stay that way."

"Well, if you're sure, _ami_. I'll let zem know. I wish you luck, Spain."

Spain smiled. "_Gracias_, old friend."

"Anyzing to cheer you up; it's quite rare to see ze Spanish Empire all sad and gloomy."

Spain let out a breathless laugh. "Come to think of it, where is Prussia?"

"I'm not sure, probably wiz Frederick somewhere."

"His king and he are inseparable."

"Well, he's not ze only one."

"I thought you were seeing that Voltaire guy?"

"I am! But it seems as zough Louis 'ad taken zat damn Madame Du Barry on as a mistress. If 'e can take on a mistress so can I?"

Spain raised an eyebrow. "Voltaire's a girl? I knew there was something off about that guy."

France rolled his eyes. "Oh, Spain, you _idiote_! Voltaire is all man."

"Me and Prussia would beg to differ."

"You two would." France scoffed. "And I see you've cheered up quickly. Come on, let's get out of 'ere and get you 'ome. Besides I need a good long drink."

* * *

The journey from France's to Spain's house seemed to take longer than usual. He had sat in the royal carriage beside his king, looking out of the window. His king had even complimented on his behaviour. This had been the first time that his king had seen his nation like this. Spain had smiled warmingly and told him not to worry, even though Spain would have a shrewd idea that he would. After making sure his king was safely home with his wife and children, Spain bid farewell and left the castle and walked home. He didn't want to take a horse or a carriage and ride to his home, he just wanted the walk to clear his head and he needed time to think of what the hell he would say to Romano, when he got inside the house.

The huge building loomed nearer and nearer with every step. Spain's stomach tightened. What would he say? What would Romano do? Spain willed himself to keep moving, even though he was dreading of what would come next. He reached a shaky hand towards the door and pushed it open. He stepped through the hall way and entered the living room.

"Romano?" he called.

* * *

Romano looked up and stared at the nation standing on the other side of the room. Romano stared at his caretaker. Spain had his formal clothes on and not his armour, but Romano could see the bandages bulging the clothes slightly. He had a few bruises on his hands and cheeks; a scar running from the corner of his right eye to his ear.

"S-Spain?"

"_Hola_, Romano." The Hispanic nation breathed.

Romano stood up slowly and took a few steps from the corner he had isolated himself in. Spain smiled sadly and held out his arms. Romano's face screwed up and he began to bawl as he ran over to Spain...

And hit him in the crotch!

Spain coughed and slunk to the ground, clutching his Spanish Tomatoes.

"You damn taco eater! Do you know how much I've been worried?!" the little nation screamed. His tiny fists began hit every bit of Spain he could reach. "I've been sitting up in your room crying my fucking eyes out because of you! You left me before I could apologise to you, you tomato bastard! You shouldn't have argued with me in the first—"

Romano stopped his ranting as Spain caught his wristed and then hugged him. Romano looked up as he heard the soft crying of his caretaker.

"Spain?"

"L..._lo siento_, Roma. _Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento, lo siento_. My little Romano. I apologise. I'm sorry for leaving you all alone. I didn't mean to snap at you...and I'm sorry for leaving you for so long. I've done nothing but think about you since I've been gone. Prussia told me that it was no good for me to be wallowing in my misery when I should be fighting."

Romano sighed and leaned against his caretaker, his fingers gripping onto Spain's shirt. "I'm sorry, too, Spain. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I missed you so much."

"_Gracias_, my little Roma~, I missed you too."

The two stayed like that for a moment before Spain pulled back, his eyebrow raised. "Did you say you'd been sleeping in my bed while I was gone?"

"Shut your face!"

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hello, okay. I've got a lot of explaining to do! A few weeks ago, I had been on holiday in Scotland and I just come back and my internet had gone weird. But I got it fixed and I found out that Fanfiction had taken this story down because of the lyrics. So, I decided to post this back up but with a few edits and takings out of the lyrics so I decided to upload it today! So, if you're new to this and you're reading this, this explanation will make sense to you. So, sorry for the confusion but blame the idiot who reported this fanfiction for copyright – when clearly I don't own the lyrics! **

**Anyways, I'm glad to get this back on the road and I found this chapter really adorable. It's been a long time since I wrote Spamano and that was in the Christmas one months ago. **

**Hope you enjoyed this and sorry for any confusion! Reviews are love :) **

**M.S.P. **

**Xxxxx**

**Translations: **

Adiós – goodbye

Mon ami – my friend

Francia – France

Cheri – darling

Gracias – thank you

Idiote – Idiot

Mon cher – my dear

Hola – hello

Lo siento – I'm sorry


End file.
